


m 



MEMOIR 



AMER KIIGMAI SOTT, 



LATE PASTOR OF THE 



Jitst gaptist CImrtlj in tire Citj bI p» fM; 



COPIOUS EXTEACTS EEOm" HIS COEEESPOKDENCE. 



BY HIS BROTHER. 



"For we are His workmanship, created in Christ Jesus unto good 
works, which G-od hath before ordained that we should walk in them."— 
Eph. ii. 10. 

"Bringing every thought into captivity to the obedience of Christ" — 
2d Cor. ii. 5. 



NEW YORK: 

SHELDON AND COMPANY. 

I860. 



S& 












Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1860, by 

RICHARD M. NOTT, 

In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States for the 

Southern District of New York. 



Gift from 
WeE stat.o, Miss Ruth Putnam 

Sept-1*' 1931 



R. CEAIGHEAD, 
Printer, Stereotyper, and Electrotyper, 

Carton ButRjmjy, 

81, 83, and 85 Centre Street. 



CONTENTS. 



PAGE 

INTRODUCTION ....... 13 

CHAPTER I. 

CHILDHOOD, UP TO CONVERSION 19 

CHAPTER II. 

CONVERSION — JOURNAL, ETC 34 

CHAPTER IIL 

GOING TO SCHOOL — DIFFICULTIES — SCHOOL LIFE — REMI- 
NISCENCES BY A TEACHER 45 

CHAPTER IV, 

SCHOOL LIFE — UPS AND DOWNS 53 

CHAPTER V. 

RELIGION IN SCHOOL A REVIVAL 62 

CHAPTER VI. 

CALL TO PREACH — A PILGRIMAGE 75 

CHAPTER VIII. 

RESOLUTENESS "i MUST HAVE AN EDUCATION" THE 

ANNIVERSARY RECOLLECTIONS . . . . .84 

CHAPTER IX. 

COLLEGE HISTORY — GENERAL CHARACTERISTICS . . 93 



IV CONTEXTS. 

PAGE 

CHAPTER X. 

THE FIRST YEAR — WILLIAMSON Ill 

CHAPTER XI. 

AGAMENTICUS 123 

CHAPTER XII. 

SECOND YEAR 130 

CHAPTER XIII. 

SECOND YEAR CONTINUED — ALBION . . . .135 

CHAPTER XIY. 

THIRD YEAR NEW YORK — PITTSFORD. ETC. . . . 148 

CHAPTER XV. 

SECOND MISSION TOUR — LEWISTON FALLS . . .166 

CHAPTER XYI. 

FOURTH YEAR — LETTERS 175 

CHAPTER XVII. 

FOURTH YEAR IDEAS OF PREACHING . . . .186 

CHAPTER XVIII. 

FOURTH YEAR CONTINUED — GRADUATION . . ,195 

CHAPTER XIX. 

DOVER 201 

CHAPTER XX. 

THEOLOGICAL SEMINARY 209 

CHAPTER XXI. 

LECTURING — REVIVALS IN ROCHESTER AND IN KENNE- 

BUNKPORT 222 



CONTENTS. V 

PAGE 

CHAPTER XXII. 

LETTERS — VACATION— TREMONT TEMPLE WHITE MOUN- 
TAINS 234 

CHAPTER XXIII. 

SECOND YEAR LETTERS — VISIT TO THE BROOME STREET 

CHURCH, ETC 244 

CHAPTER XXIY. 

CALL TO FIRST CHURCH LETTERS . . . . . 254 

CHAPTER XXY. 

VACATION — FIRST YEAR IN NEW YORK — CAUSES OF SUC- 
CESS, etc. 283 

CHAPTER XXYI. 

FIRST YEAR CONTINUED — LETTERS . . . . - 299 

CHAPTER XXVII. 

second year in new york perfected character — 

experimental preaching sunday-school labors, 

etc. . 326 

CHAPTER XXVIII. 

PREACHING ACADEMY OF MUSIC, ETC., ETC. . . . 338 

CHAPTER XXIX. 

HIS LAST ACTS AND WORDS — DEATH , 349 



MEMOIR OF 

REV. ABNER KINGMAN NOTT. 



INTRODUCTION. 

Abner Kingman Nott, at the age of twenty-three 
years, having just completed his course of theological 
studies, entered upon the pastoral charge of the First 
Baptist Church in the City of New York. In this po- 
sition he labored with rare fidelity and success for a 
period of one year and ten months, when he was re- 
moved by a sudden death. 

It might be doubted whether a career thus brief, 
whatever may have been its promise, could present any 
actual achievement worthy of public review. 

But the value of a life is not to be measured by its 
length ; nor even altogether by its deeds, however famous 
or useful. A life-history affords topics for study in 



14 INTRODUCTION. 

what it may exhibit of individual character ; of purity 
and tenacity of purpose ; or of processes and laws of 
mental action. A life neither conspicuous nor especially 
eventful, may yet involve problems for the philosopher 
and lessons for the Christian. 

In its facts as well as in its moral significance, the 
short career of Kingman Nott exhibits much that is 
attractive and valuable. Its peculiar success, indeed, 
presents questions of curious interest for consideration. 
In early manhood, he had been chosen for a position 
which presented almost every advantage that could be 
imagined or desired by one whose aims and aspirations 
were for the widest field of usefulness as a minister of 
Christ. The active use of his talents brought his 
name into unexpected prominence. Liberal means 
were placed at his disposal ; the best culture and the 
a luxury of doing good." In his social relations he en- 
joyed that implicit confidence and warmly affectionate 
regard, which can only be called forth by unaffected 
kindness of heart, and an appreciative genius, chastened 
and governed by tact and good sense. As a speaker, he 
united clear reasoning, fervid rhetoric, and a winning 
manner, all inspired by earnest conviction and deep feel- 
ing — which gained alike the hearts and intellects of 
young and old, of the critical scholar and of the most 



ESTTKODTJCTION. 15 

unlearned. Not merely in his own society and in New 
York, but in other cities he began to be eagerly sought 
for on account of his attractive and effective eloquence 
in the pulpit. 

Yet this kind of popularity apparently did not elate 
or dazzle him. All who knew him best, testify that he 
never lost the simple directness of his character, nor the 
undivided earnestness of his consecration to the higher 
objects of his ministry. Power and influence were of 
little account in his esteem, except as means for practi- 
cal usefulness. 

But to complete his happiness, the most cherished 
aims of his life seemed to be on the full tide of prospe- 
rity. His earnest desire was to see his large church 
trained up to the highest standard of Christian effi- 
ciency ; co-operating with the pastor in all efforts of 
beneficent influence, and for the salvation of souls ; not 
merely in the congregation but in the " region round 
about." The conversion of nearly two hundred persons 
during the short term of his ministry gave evidence 
that these labors were not in vain. 

Passing from these features and facts in the brief 
record of the subject of this memoir, we are naturally 
led to inquire whether his success was a fortunate acci- 
dent ? Shall we rather say, succinctly, that it was the 



16 INTRODUCTION. 

special favor of God? or, reverently recognising His 
supreme control, shall we descend to the human plane 
to seek for second causes? Among these, perhaps, 
were the following : 

(1.) He was favored by a peculiarly excellent con- 
stitution : — the intellectual, emotional, and moral 
natures being equally healthy and active : — well-pro- 
portioned, and harmoniously adjusted to each other. 

(2.) The circumstances of his childhood and early 
youth were such as to encourage, and through the 
grace of God, effect the development of virtuous im- 
pulses, and to educate intellect, taste, and conscience. 
Thus he was preserved in mental and physical vigor 
comparatively untouched by the evil influences which 
lurk in the path of so many young men, and prepared 
for the reception, in due time, of a concentrated, ener- 
getic " motive power" into his soul. 

(3.) The key to the ultimate harmony of his 
character — to his endeavors and to his success, may be 
found, perhaps, in the fact that he was thus early 
arrested and absorbed by an ambition far higher than 
that which is apt to seize upon a buoyant youth on the 
threshold of life. Un conquered by thirst for distinction, 
or wealth, or pleasure, or even the nobler desire for 
mere learning, or power, or fame, or any selfish or sordid 



INTEODUCTION. 17 

achievements, he became, while a mere boy, the loyal 
and devoted servant of Jesus Christ. He chose the Sav- 
iour as his dearest friend — his captain and leader — a 
being to worship and glorify — and yet one to imitate. 
Possessed — animated by this all-absorbing and controll- 
ing affection, he was at once led to a great Work to be 
done — the noblest and best. All his faculties, developed 
to their greatest activity and strength, were devoted to 
this work, and these faculties became harmonized into 
symmetrical proportions. 

The "philosophy of a life" thus outlined, is deline- 
ated circumstantially, though in an imperfect and in- 
formal manner, in the following pages. The simple 
incidents of Kingman's history, and glimpses of his 
spiritual experience, are revealed chiefly in his own 
letters and memoranda. These have been connected, 
with such brief explanations and comments as appeared 
needful. If the reader of these pages has heretofore 
questioned whether love to Christ be a safe and worthy 
motive, and a sufficient power to develope power, and 
to purify and elevate the entire character, perhaps a 
fair consideration of the aims and results herein im- 
perfectly pictured, may solve these doubts— may cast 
an additional ray of light on the pathway of Christian 
duty and the road to the reward of those whose duty 



18 INTRODUCTION. 

has been done ; and may possibly incite some, here and 
there, to pursue the investigation, and test for them- 
selves the value of the gospel. It is thus hoped that 
some good lesson may be learned from the brief history 
of ooe who, under a divine impulse acting on his soul, 
seemed to make the most of himself, and " the most 
of two worlds." 



CHAPTER I. 

CHILDHOOD, UP TO CONVERSION. 

Abner Kingman Nott was the son of Handel G. 
and Lydia C. Nott. His paternal ancestors, a centnry 
and a half ago, emigrated from England, and established 
themselves in the old town of Saybrook, Conn., taking 
their stand firmly at the same time on the " Saybrook 
Platform." It was a stock robust and thrifty. From 
it came " Old Dr. Nott, of Franklin," President Nott, 
of Union College, Samuel Nott, D.D., the original com- 
panion of Judson, and other well-known names. The 
ancient family homestead still remains, though it has 
passed into the hands of strangers. 

His mother's family also were of Puritan descent. 
Her father, Mr. Abner Kingman, was well known forty 
years ago as a prosperous merchant in the city of Pro- 
vidence, and was greatly respected for intelligence and 
piety. 

Handel G. Nott, born at Saybrook, in the year 1800, 
was graduated at Yale College in 1823, studied Theo- 
logy at the same institution, and in 1826 was ordained 
to the work of the Christian Ministry, and at the same 
time installed pastor of the Congregational Church 
in Nashua, N. H. During the nine years of his minis- 



20 CHILDHOOD, UP TO CONVERSION. 

try in that place, there was an almost uninterrupted 
1 revival.' 

The subject of this memoir was born at Nashua, on 
the 22nd day of March, 1834. He was the fourth son 
in a family of fifteen children, six of them the fruit of a 
second marriage. Two, of tender age, had been laid 
in the churchyard before the birth of Kingman ; two 
others were taken away before his death, also in infancy. 

Only two years of Kingman's life were passed in 
Nashua. Indeed his childhood saw many changes. 
In the spring of 1836 Mr. Nott began the pilgrim life, 
which is the lot of so many clergymen. . . . Hav- 
ing changed his opinions upon the subject of baptism, 
he resigned his charge at Nashua, and removed first to 
Buffalo, New York, where his field was the wharves and 
a Seamen's Bethel Church. Three years later, returning 
to the East, he became pastor of the Federal street, 
now Howe street, Baptist Church, in Boston. Thence 
he removed to Bath, Maine, about the close of 1840, 
and eight years later to Kennebunkport, Maine, where 
he still preaches. 

Of the fourteen years preceding Kingman's conver- 
sion (Jan. 1849), no minute account need be attempted. 
That was the great epoch — the time when his history, 
properly so called, begins. Previous to that he had 
nearly the usual tastes and habits of moderately " good" 
boys, was fond of play, tolerant of books, an attendant 
on schools. Yet some details may illustrate what were 



CHILDHOOD, UP TO CONVERSION. 21 

his natural qualities, and what the influences that aided 
to mould him. 

His body did not, up to his sixth year, promise the 
vigor it afterwards possessed. He had a large and 
noble head, and sufficiently broad shoulders; but a 
slender frame, and legs scarcely able to support the 
weight of the slight superstructure. His parents, in- 
deed, had much anxiety for him. But in '39 he was 
sent to pass the summer on his grandfather's farm in 
Saybrook; and being here encouraged in free, out-of- 
door sports, barefooted rambles over the breezy hills, 
and such gentle labor as a child might mistake for play, 
he rapidly gained strength, and laid the foundation for 
permanent and robust health. This was his physical 
salvation; who shall say how much it had to do with 
his moral preservation? 

Kingman early displayed an affectionate and tender 
disposition — loving his friends ardently, being quick to 
sympathize with their distresses, sensitive to rebuke, 
easily moved to tears. He w 7 as very independent of 
companionship, and even w T hen very young would 
amuse himself contentedly in solitude by the hour. 

Yet he had a most wholesome love of the usual sports 
of boyhood, and was enterprising and fearless, if not to 
a fault, at least to the discomfort of those who had the 
charge of him. Some anecdotes show this: — Upon 
his third birthday, in Buffalo, he was suddenly, after 
dinner, missing; and an anxious search, continued 



22 CHILDHOOD, UP TO CONVERSION. 

through the whole afternoon, failed to discover any 
traces of him. At last, near sundown, the city crier 
was summoned, who went forth, with jingling bell and 
the cry " Child lost !" and finally succeeded in capturing 
the infant adventurer, two miles from home, on the bank 
of a small pond, where he was still placidly delighting 
himself, in the departing twilight, with experiments in 
the navigation of chips. He rode home on horseback, 
exulting in his enterprise and his exploits. 

The town of Bath, where much of his boyhood was 
spent, lies upon the Kennebeck River, there nearly a 
mile in width. On, in, and about this river, he found 
his chief amusements, swimming, boating, clambering 
about the frames of ships on the stocks, or the masts 
of ships at the wharves. Several times he was near 
drowning. Once he slipped into the water between a 
ship and the wharf to which the tide was rapidly drift- 
ing her in ; he was unable to extricate himself and was 
with difficulty saved by others from the double danger 
of drowning and being crushed. 

Having become accustomed to sailing in company 
with older persons, he was filled with ambition to 
voyage on his own account. The first attempt proved 
anmistakably premature. Ventuiing out in a high 
wind, with an unwieldy, two-masted boat, he found 
more than he could manage and was soon drifting at 
the mercy of w T ind and tide. These dealt tenderly 
with him, however, and brought him to the shore a 



CHILDHOOD, UP TO CONVERSION. 23 

mile or two below the town, with no loss but of the 
ship and lading. He came safe home, but the boat 
was found next morning with torn sail, and oarless 
and bilged. 

In the sieges and assaults of the mimic warfare in 
which boyhood delights, he exhibited more skill than 
for elementary navigation. In winter it was the custom 
with the boys to build great snow-forts, with massive 
walls. Two of these, occupying neighboring elevations, 
would sometimes bombard each other for a whole after- 
noon, varying the dread scene with the " circumstance" 
of sorties and assaults. The ammunition employed was 
not always of a safe sort. Snow-balls, dipped in water 
and frozen — and intended to effect breaches in the 
walls of the enemy, would sometimes do execution among 
the unlucky garrison. A few " casualties n resulting 
in this way caused the "new arm ,, to be abandoned. 

Another source of frequent amusement, was ram- 
bling in the woods and fields. About Bath there were 
extended " pastures,' ' not soft and rolling, but rugged, 
with great rocks and deep dells, with frequent brooks, 
and woods of oak, maple, and pine. These rough 
fields afforded inexhaustible pleasures. There were 
berries, squirrels, fish, maple sap, — and the mere delight 
of roaming. The love of nature here acquired, and 
nursed afterwards on the wild sea-coast of Kennebunk 
port, was one of Kingman's strongest passions. 



24 CHILDHOOD, UP TO CONVERSION. 

Kingman was not, in the ordinary idea of it, a preco- 
cious child. That is, there was no premature and 
eccentric development of any kind. The intellect 
had not been unduly stimulated, and was not exces- 
sively active, to the disadvantage of physical, and 
finally of mental health. He had a symmetrical 
nature in body, mind, and soul. He possessed always a 
certain spirituality, but was tangible and loved tangible 
things. He was " of the earth — earthy " in a proper 
sense, and to a healthful degree — for a dweller on 
earth. 

Yet he early displayed great native intelligence and 
aptitude for learning as well as for doing. An old so- 
briquet, clinging to him from childhood — " The Little 
Old Man " — suggests some of his peculiarities. It was 
grounded partly on his appearance ; since the large head 
on small body, his great forehead, and almost white 
hair, caused doubts often as to his real age. But what 
was particularly noticeable at this very early period 
was, not merely the propriety and ease of his conversa- 
tion (for his "talk" deserved that name, with its curi- 
ous mingling of simplicity and adult wisdom) but the 
large diction that he used, yet with perfect unconsci- 
ousness of its singularity. He seemed to comprehend 
the length and breadth of our language, almost by in- 
tuition. 

Kingman had quick apprehension, a retentive memory, 
self-possession resulting from self-unconsciousness, and, 



CHILDHOOD, UP TO COXYEESION. 25 

as has been said, great fluency of speech. With these 
gifts, he rarely failed to make a good appearance in his 
class at school. An art in which he early excelled was 
declamation. His whole elocution was remarkably 
good ; the articulation perfect ; the inflections instinc- 
tively correct ; voice full and sweet. In his fifth year, 
during the visit at Saybrook, he was wont to astonish 
his grandmother with borrowed eloquence, and' fre- 
quently assured her of his intention to become a min- 
ister. He visited the A s once, when seven years 

old, and during his stay entertained them regularly with 
speech-making. It was at a time when the papers were 
filled with political addresses. Kingman would be put 
upon a table, newspaper in hand, and set to pronouncing 
some fiery harangue; he would enter fully into the 
spirit of it, make the heat his own, and shout with a 
vehemence of passion that in a real contest could not 
have failed to make the day his own. 

Kingman was fortunate, again, in being constituted 
with a comparatively sound and vigorous moral nature. 
There were no strong tendencies to vice, as there are 
in some, ready to be developed at the first occurrence 
of temptation, and certain either to betray soul and body 
to ruin or to be finally conquered only after severe con- 
flicts. He was morally healthy. It is true that God 
kept him, counterbalancing inevitable temptations with 
gracions interferences, yet much is due to this original 
blessing. It is certain that his purity throughout boy- 

3 



26 CHILDHOOD, LP TO CONVERSION. 

hood was uncommon. Grossness seemed utterly foreign 
to his nature. His faults were chiefly of a superficial 
order. This was part of God's plan concerning him, — 
to constitute him healthily, to preserve him from ruinous 
habits, and thus to save him in manhood from the 
dreadful expenditure and waste of strength, necessary 
in so many to restore and keep the lost balance of ap- 
petite and moral sense. 

Religiousness is to be distinguished as another cha- 
racteristic of Kingman in his early days. He was often 
deeply affected by thoughts of his own sinfulness, God's 
greatness and condescension, and the Divine love in 
Christ. Particularly was this the case during a threat 
Revival that occurred in Bath, in 18-42. It was a work 
of extraordinary power. Daring the months of its con- 
tinuance, multitudes thronged the churches daily, hun- 
dreds were converted. A brother and a sister of King- 
man's, older than himself, were baptized. Kingman's 
sympathetic nature responded to the influence of these 
scenes ; and unexpectedly one day, in a crowded meet- 
ing — having mounted a bench, he was heard exhorting 
the multitude, confessing his sins, and begging for 
prayers in his own behalf, and for a dear friend, " who 
was an infidel." He was then seven or eight years old. 
His interest at that time was really deep and genuine. 
He himself savs of it, writing several years afterward : 
I have no doubt the Spirit wrought upon my young 
heart, though, of course, much of my manifestation of 



CHILDHOOD, UP TO CONVERSION, 2*7 

feeling was the result of sympathy ; and how much con- 
nection this may have had with my subsequent awaken- 
ings and final conversion, six years later, I cannot say. 
I talked and prayed constantly and zealously. I ex- 
horted sinners to repent and believe, and urged my play- 
mates to come with me. I remember my special interest 
in some converts' meetings for children. I remember 
C.'s coming home one day, and saying, ' I fall into 
Jesus' arms,' or some such expression, to signify a newly 
found Saviour. Especially do I remember a Union 
Prayer Meeting in the ' Old South,' where so many 
hundreds were present, and my trying in vain to be 
heard, till Captain L. put me upon the seat, and I 
spoke. On my way home from church, I went into the 
house of a playmate, W. G., and we prayed together. 
I was quite disconcerted, on coming out, to find a con- 
siderable collection of people, who, in passing, had been 
attracted by the sound. With the excitement my feel- 
ings wore away, and nothing shamed me more in after 
years than an allusion to that time. 

An old playmate says, referring to a time just subse- 
quent to this : " We all felt there was something in 
Kingman superior. He was earnest enough in play, 
but his mind seemed at work all the while on higher 
things." He relates also this anecdote : — " Once several 
boys, with Kingman, had been playing an afternoon in 
the woods, and had chased squirrels and climbed trees 
till they were tired. 'What shall we do next?' said 



28 CHILDHOOD, UP TO CONVERSION. 

they. Various proposals were made, to no purpose, 
when at last Kingman offered his : ' Come, boys, let's 
go and pray.' So all went, good and bad, moved by a 
strange impulse, into a grove where the ground was 
smooth with the fallen verdure of the pines — and all 
prayed." 

What influence from that singular prayer-meeting 
perhaps followed some of those lads through the suc- 
ceeding years into their manhood ! Thus the religious 
spirit in Kingman was from its beginnings a spirit that 
sought to communicate itself to other minds. 

Amusements, schools, religious meetings — all these, 
in Kingman's childhood, contributed to the formation 
of his character. There were other influences that 
might be named. Among them, certainly, the 'parental 
discipline ought not to be omitted. Christian parents, 
consecrating him at his birth to the Lord, honestly 
regarded him thenceforth as not their own but the 
Lord's, and themselves as the Lord's servants employed 
to train him, and responsible for the trust. Never was 
there a child for whom a greater amount of earnest 
dedicatory and supplicatory prayer ascended. All pos- 
sible religious restraints and inducements were kept 
around him, yet without severity. Whining, hypocrisy, 
and cant, which creep into many so-called religious 
households, were far from this. Cheerful piety and 
consistent lives recommended religion to this boy, as a 
fact and a power ; and, with the kind enforcement of 



CHILDHOOD, UP TO CONVEKSIO^. 29 

reasonable law, made the parents what all parents 
should be to their children, — God's representatives. 
Home was rendered happy and sweet. Not that 
there were no storms, but these did not affect the upper 
atmosphere, and were speedily dispelled. Cheerful- 
ness and healthful merriment were here : conversation, 
reading, singing. Morning and evening there was 
singing at family-prayers. The words and music of 
how many of those old hymns are now laden with the 
dearest recollections, and bring tears of hallowed sad- 
ness, or "thoughts too deep for tears!" Kingman's 
attachment to home, during his whole life, was remark- 
able ; its bonds were never loosened. Next to love for 
God, indeed, the strongest affection in his heart was love 
for his father. 

An extract from a brief private record, dated 1855, 
says : — 

u One object of my writing now is to trace out the 
hand of Providence, which makes all things, I believe, 
c work together for good to them that love God.' Here 
I must mention first — that I have received just such a 
home education as I have. I know enough of my own 
character to assure me that no other man I have ever 
known, beside my own revered father, could have made 
me even what I am — little as that is. No living being 
— thank God — will ever know what I should have been 
without him." 

Kingman's mother died when he was in his tenth 
3* 



30 



year, on the 9th day of February, 1844, after a linger 
ing arid painful illness. This is not the place to record 
her virtues ; though there are hundreds who recollect 
her as an accomplished and noble Christian woman, 
intellectual, well read, and herself a graceful writer, 
but most of all devoted to the attainment of close, 
personal communion with the Holy Spirit of God, and 
to the elevation of others as well as of herself to a high 
standard of Christian living. She died most peace- 
fully, commending her six young children to God, with 
a calm trustfulness that was always her characteristic, 

and saying, " They will be converted ; " " E also," 

a dear friend, " will be converted — I am certain of it." 
The response to her faith is evinced in the fact, that 
all her children became members of the church be- 
fore the age of sixteen, and her two sons became 
preachers. 

On a bitter winter's day Mrs. Nott was taken to her 
grave, where already her infant of but a few months 
was slumbering. Together their bodies sleep, till the 
resurrection shall bring mother and child again to a 
living embrace. 

The two years that succeeded her death were neces- 
sarily full of trial and temptation to Kingman. The 
good hand of God preserved him unharmed. In 1846 
Mr. Nott was married to Sarah Louisa Smith, of Bath, 
Me. This lady proved a mother indeed to the mother- 
less children, and became speedily the centre of thei? 



CHILDHOOD, UP TO CONVERSION. 31 

love. Kingman's warm affection for her is indicated by 
numberless references in his letters. 

In the summer of 1847 Mr. Nott, resigning his pas- 
toral charge at Bath, removed the family to Waterville, 
Me., for a few months, previous to fixing his residence 
at Kennebunkport. In Waterville Kingman attended 
the Academy kept then by Mr. J. H. Hanson, now of 
Portland, an efficient teacher, under whose direction 
Kingman made good progress. The facility with which 
he rendered Virgil into shapely and sonorous English, 
used especially to excite the wonder and hopeless emu- 
lation of his classmates. Yet he was a favorite from 
his good-nature and gayety. 

Here he received new religious impressions. He 
says — " Here my feelings were once more deeply 
wrought upon. There were some prayer-meetings in 
private houses which I attended. I talked with father, 
anxiously examined the Scriptures to know what I must 
do to be saved ] prayed and resolved, and did my best 
to make myself a Christian, and persuaded myself for a 
time that I had succeeded." 

In July, 1848, the removal was made to Kennebunk- 
port. Here by far the most important year of King- 
man's early youth was spent. It was important as the 
time when he first began to obtain some thorough men- 
tal discipline (in distinction from the mere acquirement 
of information), and when, above all, that great moral 
revolution took place in his soul that made him a 
u new creature." 



32 CHILDHOOD, UP TO CONVERSION. 

Kingman at this time had little power of mental con- 
centration. A " fatal facility" sufficed to put him in 
possession of the form of knowledge, at little cost of 
exertion and small gain of power. It began to be 
feared he would grow up a superficial scholar and an idle 
thinker. 

Mr. Nott himself accordingly resolved to undertake 
for a time the business of his son's education. And 
now began a course of training such as few boys of 
fourteen ever experienced, and which with many might 
have proved ill-judged. The Greek and Latin gram- 
mars, with portions of Virgil and Cicero, Tytler's Uni- 
versal History, and a little French, constituted the rou- 
tine part of this drill — the machinery that other in- 
structors would have employed. But the great engines of 
discipline on which his father relied were Locke, Butler, 
and Crabbe ! Large portions of Locke's Essays and But- 
ler's Analogy were required to be thoroughly read, ana- 
lyzed, discussed, and written about; and there was a 
daily recitation in Crabbe's Synonyms. The former 
studies were expected to cultivate acumen and a logical 
mode of thinking. The latter had special adaptation to 
the needs of a boy w^hose natural fluency threatened, 
when he wrote or spoke, to overwhelm and hide his 
ideas with a flood of verbiage. 

Both objects were gained. Kingman learned to 
think — to think with precision and clearness, and 
rapidity ; and the power of nice discrimination in the 



CHILDHOOD, UP TO CONVERSION. 33 

use of terms that he gained, was such as to warrant the 
declaration of his theological instructor afterwards, that 
" Nott always pounced by intuition on the right word." 
Not altogether by intuition, but by training. 

This discipline was the making of Kingman. To 
nothing, except his conversion, was he accustomed in 
after years to look back with more gratitude. All that 
he became in the pulpit, beyond a noisy declaimer, was 
due to the training he received from his father, in his 
fifteenth year, followed by a subsequent course of instruc- 
tion, managed with equal philosophy and skill, in 
school and college. But how small, comparatively, 
might have been the results of a school and collegiate 
education, had he not gone to school and college with 
a mind already u put in order," and faculties trained to 
know and do their work. 

We have now approached the time of Kingman's 
conversion, the account of which is reserved for another 
chapter. 



CHAPTER II. 

Conversion — Journal, etc. 

On the 1st of January, 1849, Kingman Nott had 
before him only ten years of life. In that short space 
his earthly destiny was to be worked out, and whatever 
he did in the sight of men, and for men, achieved. 
Awake, young dreamer ! — only ten years to live ! Ten 
years to gain a fortune ! ten years to become great. 
Ah ! the appeal must be in vain, for death at twenty- 
five will be premature ; the years will have been 
spent in learning how to live, or a course of honorable 
toil commenced only to be, without reward — cut off! 
Such would have been the prophecy, and such might 
the fact have been, but for a revolution that at this 
juncture took place in his soul. 

The manner of the origination of his new life would 
be best described in his own words, if these were on 
record. The growing life may be through this medium 
watched, for in his letters, which immediately after his 
conversion begin to be numerous, his whole heart, to 
the last, is copied out, and over long periods little is left 
for the biographer, but to transcribe this epistolary 
autobiography. But the only sources of information 
respecting the first decisive operations of the Holy 



CONVERSION JOURNAL, ETC. 35 

Spirit upon his heart are the recollections of friends 
and an incomplete memorandum of his own, made 
several years later. The last is the paper from which 
extracts have already been taken, relating to his religious 
awakenings in Bath and Waterville. It continues : 

"This interest" — in Waterville — "was of short con- 
tinuance, but it was of use in its restraining influence 
over me. After one year we moved to Kennebunkport, 
where I lived along for several months in growing 
neglect and sin. I well remember the day of fasting 

and prayer which opened the year '49. Olive M — > 

then living in our family, was under deep concern of 
mind. My own attention was gradually drawn along 
to the subject of religion, I hardly know how. News 

came from L (a younger sister), then in Buffalo, 

that she had become interested in religion, and mother 
remarked, ' Kingman, that we might know the same 
of you !' I made myself very busy, so as not to betray 
the feeling I really had. 

"Sunday morning, January 21st, I attended our little 

prayer-meeting as usual. Brother H made some 

ordinary remarks on the importance of attending to 
personal religion, and that without delay. Though I 
had heard him speak again and again with utter indif- 
ference, his words at this time, for some reason, seemed 
to carry conviction to my heart, and I then and there 
resolved to become a Christian forthwith. 

" All this time I was supposing that the power was all 
with me, and that whenever I concluded, as I now did, 
that it was best to live no longer in sin, but begin to 



36 CONVERSION — JOURNAL, ETC. 

serve Christ, I could do so. With these determinations, 
then, I silently left the meeting, walked home, went to 
my room, and tried to pray. I sought with — " 

Here this interesting account abruptly breaks off, and 
was never resumed. The sequel of the story is told by 
his father, substantially as follows : 

He did seek, in earnest. Several days passed ; little 
was said, for I saw that the Spirit of God was guiding 
him. One day (Jan. 26th) he came with a happy face, 
telling me he had found the Saviour, and his sins were 
forgiven. He was full of joy and praise. His instant 
clearness of spiritual discernment was remarkable. A 
revelation in his soul had rendered truths before dark 
now luminous and beautiful. The plan of salvation 
was completely opened to him. He apprehended most 
distinctly the person and the work of Christ, relied 
with conscious faith on Christ's atoning sacrifice, and 
was filled with holy ardor to serve his newly-found 
Redeemer. He was new-born complete: as if a bird 
should burst through its shell not merely into life, but 
full-fledged and ready to soar. He displayed immedi- 
ately the same qualities that were long afterwards the 
characteristics of his religious life : the same quick 
decision, the same simple honesty of purpose, the same 
spirit of allegiance to duty, .the same exhaustless enthu- 
siasm, and all comprehended in the one idea of serving 
the Master. Love for the Saviour, love and pity for 



CONVERSION — JOURNAL, ETC. 37 

the souls that slighted Christ, were his impelling 
motives. 

The letters written by his father and mother at this 
time, confirm the soundness of the change. 

For instance : 

" Kingman has of late been under very deep impres- 
sions. Sabbath eve he seemed in agony of spirit — 
brought to feel his sinfulness, weakness, and utter 
dependence. He reads his. Bible much, prays ofte'h, 
and seems very much changed. I can but hope this is 
the work of the Spirit, and will be carried on and 
perfected." 

" You will be pleased to know that Kingman gives 
pleasing evidence of conversion. He is a greatly 
changed boy — more and more so. I wonder more and 
more at what the Lord has done for him. I want to 
magnify the mercy and praise God much for it. He 
has taken a part in prayer, as well as in speaking, at 
our social gatherings. May the Lord sanctify him for 
His service !" 

" The spiritual change in him is as manifest as I ever 
saw in one, for so short a time. At present he gives 
promise of some useful activity in the cause of Christ. 
He seems almost a perfect character in some respects. 

Once more he began to " exhort sinners," and " urge 
his playmates to go with him." Witness the following 
brief tale — given in the words of the original narrator, 
a young lad converted through Kingman's influence : 

4 



38 CONVERSION — JOURNAL, ETC. 

"On the 1st of June, 1849, as I was coming home 
from a prayer-meeting, I overtook Kingman Nott,whose 
heart the Lord had opened ; who spoke to me, and 
asked me if I was wholly unconcerned about these 
things. I told him I supposed I was. We walked 
along, and he asked me if I believed the Bible ? I told 
him I did. He spoke to me of the importance of com- 
ing to Christ at that time, and asked me if I would not 
try to come. I told him that I hoped I should. He 
encouraged me, and told me not to put it off. 

" I thought a great deal about what he had said, and 
the next week I went to prayer-meeting again. He 
spoke to me, and warned and entreated me to come to 
Christ. I saw that I was a great sinner in the sight 
of God. My friend came to me again, and explained to 
me the way of salvation through a crucified Redeemer. 
As he saw tears in my eyes, I believe it gladdened his 
heart, for I told him that I had tried to pray. I took 
Christ for my Saviour. I even dared to hope the 
Lord had forgiven my sins. A feeling came over 
me which I had never before experienced; it was a 
feeling of joy, thanksgiving, and praise." 

The youth who wrote thus charmingly, Howard 
Wildes, a few months after these occurrences, suddenly 
died. Upon his grave-stone is this inscription : — 

" Amiable, beloved ; a Christian, devoted and hum- 
ble ; his race run — his death peaceful : he has a crown 
of joy." 

This was Kingman's first trophy. The first year of 



CONVERSION — JOURNAL, ETC. 39 

his Christian course was signalized by the winning of 
a soul to Christ — a soul that soon was safe in heaven. 
Young Christian, go and do likewise ! 

Kingman kept a journal during the greater part of 
the year L849, of which a few scraps have escaped 
destruction. From these we quote : 

"March 2 2d, 1849, my 15th birth-day. 

"How can God be suitably thanked for His great 
mercy and long-suffering in sparing my life for these 
fifteen years — I all the while rebelling against him, 
and grieving His Spirit by putting off the day of re- 
pentance, which I well knew should be now. I know 
that His Spirit was continually knocking at my heart. 
Not a day or a night passed without my hearing the 
* still small voice,' urging, ' now is the time ;' 4 you are 
growing harder every day, and every day you are in- 
creasing your condemnation/ But still I endeavored 
(thank God, without success), to repel this voice, and 
live at ease in sin a little longer. 

" But how is God to be rewarded for His mercy ? If 
I could begin now, and spend an eternity upon this 
earth, laboring in His cause, and never doing one act 
displeasing to Him, I never could pay the slightest re- 
compense in comparison with what is due. 

"Is- it not, then, my solemn duty to consecrate all I 
am to God ; to labor with all my might, to pray with- 
out ceasing, to watch, guarding every thought and 
word? May God help me to do this! In Christ J 
can do all things." 



40 CONVERSION — JOURNAL, ETC. 

" Friday, 23d 
" I feel deeply oppressed with my weighty responsi* 
bility, since I have named the name of Christ, not to 
listen to the offers of another leader. [This was his 
motto through life.] I feel, also, anxious to keep very 
strict watch over my little actions, that my light may 
shine purely among men. May God take me, as the 
potter the clay, and mould me after his own image ! 
But I can do something. I can pray." 

" Sunday, 2oth. 

" Is it possible ! How fast the Sabbaths come round! 
And what a solemn, yet delightful thought to the 
believer, that every Sabbath brings us one week nearer 
eternal happiness. Is it so with me ? Thank God for 
the answer I can give : I have confidence that God will 
enable me to conquer, and so shall I be for ever with 
the Lord." 

" Monday, 26ih. 

" E. and C. are eighteen to-day, and I, as Capt. L 

would say, am two months old." 

"Tuesday, 21th. 

"The subject of baptism was brought up by father 
to-day. I feel, as I have for some time past, that it is 
my duty to make a profession of that religion which, by 
the grace of God, I hope I possess. 

" I have read the Declaration of Faith, and think I 
can subscribe to every article. Election seems hardest ! 
[Yet he hoped God would take him as the potter the 
clay ! The trouble was, the word Election stunned him. 
As is liable to be the case with all technical terms, the 



CONVERSION — JOURNAL, ETC. 41 

idea had fled out of tlie word ; and the great, empty 
husk, as he handled it and pondered it, was a very won- 
derful and mysterious thing to him. The idea lay 
naked and unnamed in his mind and heart ; for it is of 
necessity born into the heart of every Christian, and the 
mind of every thinker.] 

" Friday, SOth. 

" Father received a letter from L [an absent 

sister], in which was contained the precious and joyful 
news of her conversion. Bless the Lord !" 

"Saturday, March 31. 
u I lack energy : — sometimes when I see my duty 
clearly I shrink from it. I must study the Bible more." 

" Tuesday, April 10. 
" I think I discern some, at least, of the devil's me- 
thods of endeavoring to draw me into temptation. He 
endeavors to take me off my guard, when not under the 
influence of prayer ; and then such is my disposition 
and weakness — he leads me almost anywhere he 
chooses. God help me to resist him." 

"Thursday, April 12. 
" I sometimes think it almost sacrilege, and a thing 
abhorred in the sight of a pure and holy God, for me 
to attempt to come before Him. I see so many things 
I ought to correct, that I hardly know how to begin 
the work. Do not I harbor sin in my heart, and thus 
prevent my supplication from being heard ? Do not I 
sometimes fall into a snare laid for my pride, and, desi- 

4* 



42 CONVERSION — JOURNAL, ETC. 

rous of making a prayer approved of men, keep this 
before me, rather than the fear of God, and my own 
simple wants? It is a horrible sin, I know, but one 
easy to be guilty of. May God preserve me from what 
I know to be so heinous." 

" Sunday Evening, September 2d 
" I took out my old journal this evening for the pur- 
pose of recording the baptisms that have taken place 
of late. I have put on Christ by a public profession 
(Aug. 19th) and to-day another has followed, Howard 
Wildes. He was first awakened under the slight means 
which God enabled me to use. I write this that I may 
often read, and never be discouraged in performing my 
duty, especially in employing the means which God has 
appointed for the salvation of souls " . 

These serve as specimens. They show us what are 
the thoughts, and hopes, and aims of this boy of fifteen. 
Noble thoughts, hopes, and aims, if he can but persist 
in them. 

It is not greatly to be regretted, probably, that the 
journal was not continued. A journal of emotions and 
states of mind is very likely to degenerate, becoming 
occupied with " vain repetitions," and encouraging a 
habit of too minute self-scrutiny. Kingman was too 
busy and too happy to keep a journal of this kind. 

One or two extracts from letters of this period follow : 



CONVERSION — JOURNAL, ETC. 43 



TO HIS ELDEST SISTER, THEN ABSENT IN THE ISLAND 
OF CUBA. 

"April '49. 

" Here I am, seated at my desk, in my pleasant little 
room, and — where I suppose you would very much like 
to be — at home. I know not what time it is, but it 
must be quite early, for father only has gone down 
stairs. From the window before me I have a beautiful 
view : three or four fine houses, a grove of evergreens, 
and many large, splendid trees ; while in clear weather 
I can catch a glimpse, over the low hills, of that wide 

waste of waters that separates you from me How 

kindly God has watched over and cared for you thus 
far. And I doubt not that just what is best for you 
and all of us will be done ; for the apostle, you know, 
says in that most beautiful and comforting verse, l We 
know that all things work together for good to them 
that love God.' What more do we want ? 

u I am prospering in my studies. The Greek Reader 
&c, and the wood occupy my attention at present. 
Soon I shall exchange the saw and axe for spade and 
hoe. These I say occupy my attention, but do not mis- 
understand me. I mean as my secular employments (!). 
But I have far more important duties, which I fear I 
am too lax in performing. Still I keep them up and 
am conscious of a strong and fixed determination to serve 
my Saviour ; and I have confidence that I shall be 
enabled to press on in the name of the Lord of Hosts. 
Pray much for me ; all our strength lies at the mercy- 
seat," etc. 



44 CONVERSION — JOURNAL, ETC. 



TO THE SAME. 

December 31, 1849. 

"My dear young friend and brother, Howard Wildes, 
was, as you already know, suddenly and mysteriously 
separated from us. I said mysteriously, but would recal 
it. How weak are we to call that a mysterious dealing 
of Providence, which calls a saint to that blessedness for 
which he has prayed earnestly. 

" The first time I ever entered his house I prayed 
with him an anxious sinner. The second time I entered 
with tears to behold him a corpse ! Excuse me for 
dwelling so long on one topic, but my heart is full," etc. 

During the whole of 1849, and until the summer of 
1850, K. remained at home, engaged in a, variety of 
occupations ; rambling in the woods, fishing, exploring 
the mysteries of the rock-piled and cavern ed sea-coast, 
managing the garden and the wood, studying Locke, 
Butler, and Crabbe, and preaching in his own way, i.e. 
privately, among his companions, as he worked and 
played. He was gaining strength of body, mind, and 
soul, for the Lord's service afterwards. 



CHAPTER HI. 

Going to School— Difficulties — School Life — Re- 
miniscences by a Teacher. 

Kingman had now (Spring of 1850) reached an age 
when it became important to make some decisive 
arrangements with reference to his future profession or 
business. It was at least necessary to determine in 
general whether books or trade, or some labor of the 
hands should employ him. The question was placed 
entirely at his own disposal. He consulted his father. 
" Follow your own inclinations, if you can obtain God's 
approval of them ; any useful business is honorable,' 5 was 
the response the oracle gave ; and Kingman, much to 
his father's joy, decided for books. Not, probably, that 
he had an ardent love of learning for its own sake, but 
partly because he could not easily forego the pleasures 
he had learned to relish in the companionship and asso- 
ciations of books, and partly because he heard, as almost 
every youth does, his destiny calling him. Happy he 
who has the gift of interpretation, and can understand 
the mystic summons. 

It is interesting, moreover, to observe how frequently 
in his letters the word duty occurs. " I am sure it is 



46 GOING TO SCHOOL. 

my duty to get an education." For he was true-hearted : 
his question honestly was, What will God have me to 
do ? Accordingly, when he resolved, in the face of great 
difficulties, to go from home and devote himself to the 
business of procuring an education, he felt as confident 
of acting by divine command, as Moses did when he 
determined to cross the Red Sea. 

The difficulties were all comprised in this : The want 
of money. 

He had to " begin the world " without a dollar and 
without the promise of one. Literally, his only outfit 
for his first venture away from home, besides the endow- 
ments nature and grace had bestowed, was a few 
books, the passage money to his place of destination 
(with fifty cents surplus), and a somewhat generous sup- 
ply of second-hand clothing. For his raiment had this 
peculiarity, that each individual article of apparel could 
be referred to a different original owner. " This was 
my uncle's," " this my cousin's," and " this my father's." 
His boots and his cap were the only parts of his dress 
he could properly call his own ; and these were of com- 
pulsion so, because his head and his feet were in a peculiar 
sense his own. It will be inferred that Kingman's 
father was not a man of large means. Such was the 
truth. He had nothing on earth. But he had large 
possessions in the Kingdom of Heaven, and these his 
son — a fact in strict agreement with God's promises — 
did distinctly find available. Kingman himself also pos- 



GOING TO SCHOOL. 47 

sessed what proved sufficient for every emergency, a 
brave heart, buoyant temper, indifference to little in- 
conveniences, an unflinching will, faith, and good 
muscles. These last, it will soon be perceived, were a 
most important auxiliary. 

The school selected was " The Connecticut Literary 
Institute," located at Suffield, Conn., a classical and 
English Academy for both sexes, then under the charge 
of Mr. William Woodbury. Few men better qualified 
to be educators of youth have appeared in this country, 
than Mr. Woodbury : a premature death alone, in the 
opinion of many, prevented his attaining a celebrity as 
wide-spread though not altogether of the same character, 
as that of Dr. Arnold in England. 

With sufficiently extended and exceedingly accurate 
scholarship, he joined the habit of absolute self-govern- 
ment, keenness of penetration into the minds and hearts 
of others; tact in management, and decision in enforc- 
ing law — the very qualities of a great executive officer. 
Although a martinet in his drill, yet he understood 
how to educate, not only in the popular sense of 
cramming in, but in the more important, etymological 
idea of drawing out. He succeeded, except in obstinate 
cases, in teaching his pupils to think as well as to 
acquire. He did much for Kingman, and Kingman in 
return gave him both respect and warm affection. 
Such tributes as the following are frequent in his 
letters. 



48 GOING TO SCHOOL. 

" I cannot help loving and respecting Mr. Woodbury 
more and more every week. His aim in the increase 
of advantages, intellectual, moral, and religious, seems to 
be nothing short of perfection, and I find myself sur- 
prised at the constant onward march of improvement 
in every department." 

The following affords a glimpse of Mr. Woodbury's 
methods : 

" Thoroughness is the thing chiefly insisted upon. 
For instance, our Greek. Three times a week we 
translate and parse Xenophon — one page at a lesson in 
advance, and one to three or four in review. After we 
have read and thoroughly reviewed a chapter, we 
present a written translation of it. The three other 
days of the week we take our written translations and, 
independently of book, translate back to Greek — then 
take Greek and translate to Latin. 

Such a variety affords great interest, and one cannot 
help gaming some knowledge of these languages." 

Professor E. C. Hamlen, now of Waterville College, 
then at Suffield, was a teacher to whom Kingman was 
also strongly attached. 

Kingman remained at SufBeld from June, 1850, to 
the summer of 1851, a little more than one year; at the 
expiration of which time he was excellently prepared 
for college. His expenses were met chiefly by his 
relations in ways unanticipated by them and himself. 



GOING TO SCHOOL. 49 

Assistance was given him, especially, by an uncle, Mr. 
Abner Kingman, of Boston, who also aided him in the 
most generous manner throughout his college course. 

But Kingman contributed something himself; pit- 
tances now and then earned at large expenditure of 
time, labor, and ingenuity. Besides, his expenses were 
reduced to half their legitimate and expected amount, 
through his pinching economy. As for earning, no 
honest labor by which he could gain a dollar for the 
" sacred purpose," was too hard or too mean for him. 
He would sweep, saw wood for anybody, dig gardens — 
anything but beg. As for economy, he wore any 
clothes that would keep him warm, and he could get. 
But Providence took care of his apparel : he was never 
but once destitute of a decent coat, and that was when 
he had left the garment at a tailor's for repairs, and for 
two weeks could not procure money to redeem it. But 
he saved in another way. When ordinary economy 
was insufficient, and earnings and donations both were 
inadequate, he abandoned his boarding-house and all 
civilized modes of living, bought Indian-meal, milk, and 
crackers — descending slowly, but fatally, to pork — and 
did his own cooking. And ever and anon from his 
drudgery he looked up, and his cheerful tone rang out, 
" It is my duty to get an education !" Often he saw 
no ray ahead ; but he pressed forward with a " no 
matter" for every inconvenience, a u trust God" for 
every perplexity, and a "thank God" in every thing f 

5 



50 GOING TO SCHOOL. 

and he got through, and the whole discipline did him 
good. 

In all his books at this time was written the motto : 
" Nil desperandum ! — never despair !" 

We say, the discipline did him good. It did. But 
be it remarked, that with a less buoyant temper, or less 
physical robustness, he might have been disciplined to 
death. 

REMINISCENCES FURNISHED BY PROFESSOR HAMLEN. 

" Kingman Nott entered the school at Suffield, shortly 
after the opening of the Summer term of 1850. He 
had been a pupil of Mr. Woodbury at Bath, and I 
suppose, was drawn so far away from home by a high 
regard for that admirable and lamented teacher. 

" He attracted much attention in the school from the 
outset, giving at once the impression that he was a 
youth of much more than ordinary talent, and quickly 
standing among the foremost in the classes which he 
joined. The most striking features of his mind, as it 
then exhibited itself, were a tenacious memory, quick 
perception, and active fancy. His fellows sometimes 
thought he saw things intuitively. Probably the truth 
was only that he completed the mental process neces- 
sary to the result more rapidly than they. 

"His command of language was quite unusual. 
Whether called upon to translate a passage, to recite 
a grammar lesson, to give his views upon some passage 
of an author, to speak in the students' meetings for 
debate, or to take part in a prayer-meeting, he was 



GOING TO SCHOOL. 51 

always ready to express his own or another's thoughts, 
as the case required, in copious, appropriate and taste- 
ful phraseology. 

" His readiness of allusion showed a range of reading 
much wider than is common for one of his age. His 
mind was stored with varied information upon many 
subjects, and these stores were very ready at command 
in description, in which he was sometimes exceedingly 
apt. I well remember an instance of this, in an account 
which he gave me of a vacation visit to the venerable 
Dr. Samuel Nott, of Franklin, Conn. 

u In respect to his habits of study, he was remarkable 
for rapid mastery of his tasks rather than for continu- 
ous application or very careful preparation. He was 
constant and punctual in his attendance at all exercises, 
and in recitation was prompt and attentive. He was 
what would ordinarily be termed a faithful student, 
but he had not as yet those habits of consecutive and 
industrious study and careful preparation which are 
essential to the highest scholarship, and which, by a 
remark of one of his later instructors, I am led to sup- 
pose he afterwards formed. 

" He maintained throughout his residence at Sum" eld 
the character of a consistent Christian. He was active 
in the meetings for social worship, often showing great 
warmth and tenderness of religious feeling, and never, 
so far as I am aware, setting before them an example 
at variance with his professions. 

"In disposition he seemed to be mild, amiable, 
sincere, and affectionate. His beaming countenance 
and expressive eye were always lighted up with kindly 
feeling. I never saw them clouded with ill-humor or 



52 GOING TO SCHOOL 

passion. He was at all times obedient and respectful 
to his teachers, and grateful for their exertions in his 
behalf. 

" He was conected with the school, I think, until the end 
of the Summer term in 1851. He left upon the minds 
of his instructors the impression that he was a young 
man of unusual promise, who was destined to pre-emi- 
nent distinction and usefulness in whatever walk of 
life he might enter, if he should be able to endure the 
ordeal of popular favor, and attention which evidently 
awaited him. 

"C. E. Hamlen. 



CHAPTER IV. 

School-life — TJps and Downs. 

We now proceed to take from K.'s correspondence 
such extracts as shed light on his character and its 
development, with occasional comments, to render the 
narrative intelligible or call attention to its lesson. 

TO HIS FATHER. 

"Sutfield, June 25, 1850. 
"Dear Father: 

u How difficult to comprehend that I am really 
settled at Suffield, and separated from my home by a 
distance of nearly two hundred miles ! Yet it is even 
so ; and when I bring myself to the stern reality, it is 
impossible to resist a feeling of sadness and sickness of 
heart. . . . Mr. Woodbury has placed me in the board- 
ing-house for the present — my room-mate, I am happy 
to say, is a pious young man. . . . 

" Pray much for me, as I feel confident you will, that 
I may be * diligent in business, fervent in spirit, serving 
the Lord? Ask the children to write me speedily, for 
I am already beginning to speculate on the contents of 
eagerly anticipated letters. Give Georgie a kiss, and 
charge C. and L. not to let him forget me. 
" Your afF. son 

"K." 

5* 



54 SCHOOL-LIFE — UPS AXD DOWNS. 

TO HIS ELDEST SISTER. 

"July 1. 
"Dear C. 

" I had indeed been compelled to turn away from 
the Post-office here with bitter disappointment and use- 
less conjectures. I finally suggested to the Post-mistress 
that my name began with iV", and not with K. Soon 
after, one of the boys called me and displayed a letter 
with the beautiful motto, Hope, But I, not knowing 
the letter was for me, but supposing that he had per- 
ceived my disappointment and wished simply to encou- 
rage me to ' hope/ — replied, i True, but hope deferred 
maketh the heart sick? Judge, then, of the eagerness 
with which I perused the precious contents of that 
envelope ! 

" I am now fully established as a member of the 
'Connecticut Literary Institute.' Bell-ringer — sweeper 
— woodsawyer, by profession and practice — and ready 
for any kind of work by which I can earn ten cents an 
hour! Yesterday I took my initiatory lesson in hay- 
ing; raking up the * trails' and 'stowing.' The duties 
of this afternoon (a holiday,) will be, first, to sweep 
the chapel thoroughly ; second, to wash five or six huge 
blackboards, and third, to go and hoe a garden. 

" A week ago I attended what is here called, and most 
appropriately, the i Covenant Meeting,' corresponding 
to our c Conference.' . . I have not yet heard Mr. I. 
preach, though I have seen enough of him in prayer- 
meetings and other places to become very much at- 
tached to him The pious members of the Insti- 
tution form a church almost by themselves, holding 
three weeklv prayer-meetings. 



SCHOOL-LIFE — UPS AND DOWNS. 55 

" We have here a Debating Society, called the c Cal- 
liopean. 5 I made my first attempt last week, and of 
course our side gained the decision of the question! I 
think it is very well conducted." 

In the next letter a great light shines upon him. He 
describes a " very marked providence." He has surely 
seen the burning bush. Witness the sincerity of his 
trust in God 

TO HIS FATHER, 

u July 18. 

" Once more have I been called to witness the truth 
of the promise, l Commit thy way unto the Lord, 
trust also in him, and He shall bring it to pass,' Listen 
to what has been done since I came here. 

" 1. My chum, who had intended to remain through 
this term and had engaged the bell-ringing and sweep- 
ing, etc, for the year, was led to the determination of 
leaving, and thus that occupation passed into my hands, 
affording me means for paving my board. 

" 2. Mr. AYoodbury spoke to me of two individuals, 
with one of whom he thought I might possibly work 
my board— both farmers, and some distance from the 
Institute. One of them was spoken to, but could give 
no definite answer, though he held out some encourage- 
ment. But yesterday, after I had inquired for letters 
at the post-office, and was going away, the post-mas- 
ter abruptly inquired my age, etc. The result was, 
that after talking some time with him, and conferring 
with Mr. W., a bargain was concluded, and yesterday 



56 SCHOOL-LIFE UPS AND DOWNS. 

morning I entered on rny duties and board here. My 
duty is, to have some care of the office. I sit at my 
studies, with only occasional and short interruptions. 
My employer holds out encouragement that soon he 
may provide me with a room of my own. I know not 
what you think of all this. For my own part, I can- 
not but consider it a very marked providence — so unex- 
pected, so adapted to ray want. I forgot to mention 
that I have the garden and horse to care for, wood to 
split, and numerous other chores. 

" I did not intend to write you fully at present, but 
could not help informing you of this new favor — so 
marked — and also desiring your prayers that I may be 
enabled to keep a thankful, trustful heart, and receive 
grace to conduct myself properly and satisfactorily to 
my employer." 

Is this the delusion of a simple child, or is it the very 
feeling which God loves to recognise, and names Faith ? 
If it is Faith, very likely it will be put to the test to 
try its strength. See the next : — 



TO HIS FATHER. 

" July 29. 
u I have but a few moments to write, but wish you to 
know of another change in my prospects. It is very 
easy to see the hand of Providence and feel that all is 
for the best, when things are to our own eye prosperous 
and we move on swimmingly. So I have found it, and 
I have seen too, how difficult it is to feel so when the 
reverse is the case. 



SCHOOL-LIFE— UPS AND DOWNS. 57 

" One week from the evening on which my engage- 
ment was made with the Post-master, I was informed 
by him, to my complete surprise, that he had concluded 
to employ some other person : he wanted some one 
who was of sufficient age and experience to assume the 
responsibility of the whole post-office, when necessary. 
The reason was, that he could not be tied to the post- 
office himself, And so this matter is ended ! 

" I had indulged too strong expectations of finding 
there a good home and pleasant employment for a long 
time. I returned forthwith to board at commons. The 
sweeping and bell-ringing, my chief dependence, and Mr. 
W.'s wood, have both been placed in other hands. 
Thus things look rather daik ; but I do not despond, 
nor, above all, complain. No doubt all will come out 
straight yet." 

In all this Job sinned not. 

"August 20. 
" On Thursday morning large teams were on hand, 
to convey the joyful students to their happy homes, 
Oh, how /felt!" 

" September 3. 

" Vacation has now very nearly passed, and very 
swiftly has the time fled. To-morrow school once more 
commences. 

44 During the four weeks I have read, worked, and 
travelled. I have not found so much work to do as I 
should have been glad of; my earnings have amounted 

to between three and four dollars Several 

little necessary articles are drawing on my resources, J 

3* 



58 SCHOOL-LIFE — UPS AND DOWXS. 

do not know about my prospects for next term. I 
have made several applications for a ' place] but am 
unsuccessful in every quarter. Still I hope I may yet 
succeed. Even if I do not, still I hope that by being 
as economical as possible, and improving every oppor- 
tunity for earning, I may* be able to cancel my board. 
If not, of course I shall be obliged to be out the winter 
term, which will hinder my progress in study. Rather 
dark at present, but the way may be clearly opened 
yet. If I had now about three dollars to clear up my 
debts here (!), I could go ahead for some time at least. 
I will let you know how I prosper, speedily. Don't be 
anxious for me." 

Later, his difficulties increase, but he finds a solution 
of them. 

" I have thus far forborne mentioning some things, 
which I feared would cause you unnecessary anxiety. 
When the last vacation approached, I saw that my 
board in commons during the four weeks— which 
would amount to six dollars — would be more than I 
could earn, and I was already behindhand about four 
dollars." . . . 

Has any rich servant of Christ ten dollars to give 
this boy of noble heart and great talents, who struggles 
here to prepare himself for usefulness ? If, remember- 
ing what he afterwards accomplished in the Lord's 
vineyard, one feels his heart involuntarily grow warm 
and generous, look about ! There are scores of young 



SCHOOL-LIFE UPS AND DOWNS. 59 

men this day, contending with even greater discourage- 
ments, but manfully combating them, because it is 
duty. Some fall; some exhaust their energies in climb- 
ing up upon the " wall of Zion," and have little strength 
to " blow the trumpet.' 5 

But let us see what a youth does, who has no way 
to earn six dollars, yet will not starve, and yet is deter- 
mined not to leave his post. 

I therefore concluded to board myself, as 



the only alternative. This I did, occupying my room 
in the Institution. I had no conveniences for cooking, 
(!) and therefore lived upon crackers and milk. Kept 
a good appetite, and enjoyed perfect health. This 
term I was in doubt what to do. I made unsuccessful 
efforts to obtain a ' place,' hesitated till the last moment, 
and finally — am boarding myself." . . . 

He evidently feels that his course requires some 
apology. 

" It seems utterly impossible for me to keep up my 
studies, and at the same time earn $1.50 a week ; espe- 
cially at this season of the year, when scarcely any 
work is to be had but wood-sawing — which, at 75 cents 
per cord for sawing twice and splitting, does not pay 
very well. I cannot tell how I am to pay my way, and 
extricate myself from debt, though I now board at half 
the expense of commons. I have no one here to rely 
upon. / must be independent. . * . . 

" My advantages I now feel to be uncommonly good, 



60 SCHOOL-LIFE — UPS AND DOWNS. 

and I should be loth to leave the school at present. I 
can pay at least half ray board — perhaps more. 

" Thus you have everything, and I shall wait anxiously 
to hear what you shall think best. If I remain, I shall 
endeavor to gain all I can of knowledge, money, and 
grace. If I leave — I know nothing." . . . 

The conclusion is, that he determines to remain, 
eating crackers and milk — (with pork now added, proba- 
bly requiring a small expenditure for cooking utensils) 
and trusting in Providence. 

Meanwhile he thinks he is u much prospered — health 
good — studies interesting" — he himself "more inter- 
ested in maintaining religious exercises" — and full of 
affection for his " priceless home." 

November 12th he gives the statistics for the term 
then closing. His board has cost eight dollars. He 
finds attending school "more expensive than he had 
expected, and to one situated as he is, involving 
vastly more responsibility and anxiety." " Sometimes," 
he adds, "I get down-hearted and almost discouraged, 
when I think how great a burden I am to my friends, 
while I ought to be independent, if not aiding them. 
Still I do feel that I am following the path of duty, and 
it is my hope and prayer that I and my friends may 
live till I shall be able to repay, in some slight measure, 
their unmerited favors." 

"The fact that I am deprived of some enjoyments, 
causes me to realize for what object it is that I am 



SCHOOL-LIFE UPS AND DOWNS. 61 

placed here : not to occupy time merely, but to gain 
an education. I just begin to feel this as I should. I 
have golden opportunities, and I do feel desirous" — now 
he is ambitious — "that the world may receive some 
benefit from it. I know God will require this" 

More, perhaps, than was important, has been allowed 
to appear concerning K.'s struggles with pecuniary 
embarrassments ; but it has been with the purpose 
that the religious reader may have .the opportunity of 
seeing precisely how young men, in many instances, are 
educated for the ministry : through what hardships 
many of them find their way to the pulpits of churches, 
where critical congregations demand polish as well as 
piety in the minister. Help them to obtain the culture 
you demand. 



CHAPTER V. 

RELIGION IN SCHOOL A REVIVAL. 

In answer to inquiries respecting his own religions 
condition, he thus writes : 

" September 11. 

" My Dear Father. — You wish to know my religious 
state of mind. I will endeavor to inform you as ex- 
actly and honestly as I can. 

" I endeavored, when I came here, to take my stand 
at once boldly and openly as a Christian, both in the 
Institution and in the public prayer-meetings : I thus 

pledged myself, and have not regretted it since 

The three meetings in the Institution I have invariably 
attended, and in one of them have always taken part. 
I also attend the weekly church-meetings, and the 
covenant-meeting on Saturday. In the last I have 
invariably endeavored to present a correct view of my 

growth in grace I fear you will think I am 

contenting myself with these dead forms, and intro- 
ducing now these statements for the purpose of justify- 
ing myself, while my heart is cold and indifferent. 
You will say, I have not yet come to the heart, from 

which proceedeth good or evil I cannot help 

feeling verily guilty before God. I know that I am 
exceedingly cold. I fear that I have not been making 
any great advancement, if any, in grace. The Christian 



RELIGION IN SCHOOL — A REVIVAL. 63 

cannot remain stationary — then where am I ?" [How 
could he know, then, that God was carrying on the 
work of grace within him, by the very process of dis- 
covering to him his imperfection ? " Men may rise on 
stepping-stones of their dead selves to higher things."] 

'" Much depends, in such circumstances as mine, on 
the character of one's room-mate. For a few days I 
was with a true Christian ; afterwards with one who 
professed the name of Christ ; but more than profession 
was not to be found, and I heard irreligious young men 
laugh at the idea of his calling himself a Christian, 
They saw through the thin veil. At present I room 
with a young man half a dozen years my senior, and 
not a professor of religion. I however pursue my own 
course, as if I were alone, and he is never in the least 
disposed to ridicule or question the propriety of my 
exercises. 

" Many things I have had to learn by experience : 
one is, I must be independent. In pursuing a course of 
study, I must make myself, and not expect to be made ; 
and so, also, if I am ever saved, I must save myself ; — 
and I may with propriety add the words, i from this 
untoward generation.' 

" I thank you for your letters, and the character of 
them. I need to be reminded and stirred up. Since 
the first night that I attended meeting here, not an 
individual has expressed to me a word on the subject 
of religion; nor would any one, if I were to remain 
here for years, unless there should be a great change in 
the state of affairs." [Was he himself equally negli- 
gent ? His schoolmates answer that no such guilt afc 
tached to him.] 



64 RELIGION IN SCHOOL A REVIVAL. 

" I find pleasure — satisfaction — in taking my Bible ; 
so in prayer too ; still I cannot find that warmth and 
fervor and zeal that the Christian doubtless may enjoy." 

There is much in that letter that deserves attention. 
Perhaps the whole deserves to be read again by any 
young man — especially any young Christian — away 
from home. Depend upon it, in that letter is revealed 
the key to success ; and in it also is a warning of the 
way to disgrace, contempt, and ruin. Ye true-hearted 
Christians, in the midst of temptations and discourage- 
ments, take courage ; be " independent," and work out 
your own salvation. Ye AaZ/'-Christians, weak, vacillat- 
ing, conscious of secret hypocrisy, take warning. Your 
" thin veil" will be " seen through." And how is it in 
schools and colleges ? Shall young men enter them 
and be able to remain " years " without being addressed 
on the subject of religion ? Religion ought to be the 
power in such places. It might easily be so, with con- 
scientiousness, resolution, and faith, on the part of its 
professors. 

Who can estimate the difference between looking 
back, as Kingman could, upon a school and college 
course in which the great aim of glorifying God was 
not lost sight of, either in monkish devotion to books 
and solitude, or in the reckless pursuit of nngodly ex- 
citements and frivolous pleasures ; and the gloomy 
remembrances which haunt many, of time worse than 
wasted, influence given for Satan, and habits contracted 



RELIGION IN SCHOOL — A REVIVAL. 65 

which fetter and drag; down the soul ever after in its 
efforts to rise towards Heaven ! Hear also a few words 
from the next epistle : — 

to his mother. 

"September 18. 

" I think that father's letters, with yours, have been 
instrumental in awakening in me a much better state 
of religious feeling. We have among the many new 
students this term several who are professors of religion, 
and of them one young man who is an active Christian, 
which is saying a great deal for SufBeld. 

" I can thoroughly bear you out in your remark con- 
cerning lifeless, backslidden professors of religion. I 
have myself seen that they are a withering curse to the 
cause of religion ; and I have heard irreligious young 
men ridicule the very idea of such and such a one being 
a Christian. God grant that I may be saved from such 
inconsistency ! " 

After a short visit, in a vacation, to his friends in 
Saybrook, he writes : 

" Eeluctantly I left the place where I had spent a 
week so pleasantly, in the midst of friends, to become 
once more an outcast from friends. However, I felt 
that I was called once more, by the voice of stern duty, 
to work. And I resolved that I would work, and so far 
from allowing my mind to be turned aside by pleasure 
and new friends, I would work the harder, that I might 
merit the respect and approbation of friends. The path 
of duty is what I wish for My chum has come 



6Q RELIGION IN SCHOOL — A REVIVAL. 

this term filled with the Spirit, having been in thi 
midst of a revival. There is a better state of things in 
this church — a spirit of prayer. 

" I have formed a resolution to be second to no class- 
mate in any recitation. How well I fulfil it, it is not for 
me to say. I don't want to prove entirely unworthy 
of the favors showered upon me." 

He writes again : 

"Alas ! if I could only fully realize what I know to 
be true, that there is no time for action like the present, 
nor any situation in which I can expect to be placed 
more favorable for glorifying God ! 

" I could wish that my mind were in a more devoted 
state. I need a revival of religion in my soul. My 
lamp burns but dimly, so many influences are there to 
diminish the brightness of its flame. It is in some 
degree as we feared, the world occupies too large a 
portion of my thoughts. I am determined to do all I 
can in study, but I would rather give up everything 
else than not maintain my piety. I would not, / dare 
not lose that, even though all else go. You know how 
apt I am to be the mere creature of impulse and feeling. 
I must learn to look more at the state of my soul in 
general, and less to my feelings at any particular mo- 
ment. Thank you heartily for your inquiries and 
remarks. I need to be often reminded of these things." 

Hitherto none but gloomy representations have come 
to us of the state of religious feeling at Suffield. But 
now, suddenly, a new day dawns. We need only K.'s 



RELIGION IN SCHOOL — A REVIVAL. 67 

account to bring the changed aspect of affairs distinctly 
before us. 

TO A SISTER. 

"Monday, Bee. 16th. 
u Dear C. — I write with very different feelings from 
those I expressed Saturday evening. The Spirit of 
God is among us. Yesterday we had solemn preach- 
ing, especially in the afternoon. The previous Sabbath 
Mr. I. commenced a series of sermons on the Reception 
of Christ, answering the three great questions — why, 
vjherii and how sinners should receive Christ. Yester- 
day was the when, and he indeed seemed, as it is ex- 
pressed in the words of an eloquent preacher, to have 
prepared the discourse ' continually hearing the surges 
of eternity beating against his study door ' ; for, as 
matter of fact, the preparation was constantly inter- 
rupted by the cries of a dying friend in the next room. 
After the evening meeting I was in my room. Who 
should enter but two young men with whom I was 
more familiar than with any others, companions with 
whom I had spent many an hour of lightness and tri- 
fling mirth. They are youths of fine appearance and 
high talents, and we have formed an inseparable trio. 
But on what an errand were they now come ! Almost 
the first words that saluted my ears were — c Well, Nott, 
we feel solemn to-night ; here's S. and I have become 
very much interested in the subject of religion, and as 
we've always been together, I thought I would come 
and talk with you a little : I find nothing does so much 
good as to be perfectly frank.'' 0, the thrill of joy and 



68 RELIGION IN SCHOOL — A KEYIVAL. 

surprise, mingled with a deep sense of guilty neglect, 
that shot th rough my soul ! That night was spent by 
us, with some others of the Institution, in prayer, and 
such prayer! We heard also the voice of .one who 
never before had prayed, beseeching mercy on his com- 
panion and himself. 

" The other could not yield — declared himself per- 
fectly insensible. Satan was busily at work, and though 
I reasoned, and plead, and prayed with him until near 
the midnight hour, he could not pray. His impres- 
sions, however, have not by any means left him, and I 
pray with great faith, 

" So you see those social prayer meetings I desired 
so much, but as I thought almost in vain, are likely to 
come, after all. 

" I cannot forbear looking forward to a few years 
hence, and seeing these young men employing their 
talents and education in turning the souls of men to 
God. Both are preparing for Yale." 

A prophetic faith ! One of these young men is now 
the Rev. Theron Brown, who preaches the gospel at 
South Framingham, Mass. The second, who " could 
not pray," was not converted till years after, but is at 
the present date, 1860, a student of theology in the 
Union Seminary in New York. Both, therefore, are 
giving " their talents and education" to the work of 
" turning the souls of men to Christ." 



BELIGION IX SCHOOL — A REVIVAL. 69 



REMINISCENCES FURNISHED BY REV. THERON BROWN. 

" It was during the early part of the summer of 1850, 
while a student at Suffield, Connecticut, that I observed 
a young stranger, plainly but neatly dressed, and with 
blue eyes and luxuriant brown hair, seated upon one of the 
front forms in the Academy Chapel, at evening prayers. 

" I did not seek his acquaintance at first, for he was 
more than a year in advance of me as a scholar, and I 
supposed he and myself could have nothing in common. 
But chance soon brought us together, and it was not 
long before an intimacy sprung up between Kingman 
Nott and me, which deeply influenced both our lives, 
and gladdened eight years of mine with the dearest 
privilege in the whole history of my friendships. 

" I wonder how we could have been so familiar ; for, 
when I first associated with him, I cared very little 
about religion ; while he, though two years my junior, 
was an experienced and consistent Christian. "We read 
and wrote together ; we worked and played together ; 
we kept 'bachelor's hall' together, and together we 
rambled over the* country on foot between the school 
terms : but there was one thing in which I could not 
join him. I could not pray ; and I now remember with 
peculiar emotion when he used to kneel by the bedside 
at night, and ask God to bless him and me, w 7 hile T 
indifferently went to sleep. Kingman loved me, but 
I could not know then how much he longed to see me 
a Christian. I trust he had the desire of his heart. 
During December of 1850, a sermon was blessed to my 
awakening, and in Kingman's room, after a week of 



70 RELIGION IN SCHOOL — A REVIVAL. 

struggle and helplessness, I heard one night the for- 
giving voice of a Saviour. Overjoyed, my impulsive 
friend led me to Mr. H.'s study, aud there, at that late 
hour, three glad hearts, teacher and pupils, offered up 
each a thankful prayer to God." 

The following is from the friend who "could not 
pray" — now a student of theology. It is part of a letter 
addressed to Kingman, dated New Haven, Feb, 1, 1857. 

"My Dear Nott. 

"Do you remember writing to a certain friend one 
year ago last November, and in that letter saying, 
i Flee to Christ.' That friend has done it! And 
you asked too, i Are you a pardoned sinner V I answer, 
'Yes!' and I ' look forward to a higher, happier 
future/ and 'with a hope well grounded in Christ 
Jesus.' Nott, that I could see you an hour only, 
if no more, and talk with you as a Christian brother ! 
I know not whether you remember me as a friend, on 
account of my long neglect ; but I must write, for I 
know you well enough to believe that you will be happy 
to greet me as a brother in Christ. . . .• Suffice it to say, 
that the Spirit of God has shined into my heart ; His 
love has melted me to repentance, and His mercy has 
pardoned me. Love, peace, and joy, are welling up from 
a purified fountain ; and I pray God that from these 
may flow out a pure life. — Yours etc., 

S ." 

We append to the chapter one or two letters. 

Here is a letter to his youngest sister, then eight 



RELIGION IN SCHOOL— A REVIVAL. 71 

years old. The characters are printed, so that she can 
read them. The words, moreover, are nearly all Saxon, 
and of one syllable. More than that, his heart is in it. 

"Oct 11. 
" Dear Little Lizzie. 

" I want you to tell father and mother, C. and L., and 
little Georgie, that I have not had a word from home 
for more than two weeks. Now, since all the rest seem 
to have forgotten brother Kingman, I thought, perhaps? 
I had better write to you, and I want you to try to get 
some one to write for you to me. You can tell me all 
about home, and whether darling Georgie is stouter 
and plays better since his visit to Bath. Tell me what 
you are studying, and how you like it ; whether you 
get all your lessons well, and try to help mother all 
you can. When I come again I must teach you how to 
write, so that you can write to me whenever you please. 

" Last Saturday was a holiday, and I went to Hart- 
ford. I visited the ' Antiquarian Hall,' where I saw a 
vast number of very curious things. I have also got 
some acorn cups for you and Cordie from the famous 
Charter Oak. 

"I sometimes feel very sad when I think that you 
are not a Christian, and not prepared to die. If any of 
the others should die, I o^uld feel that they were happy 
in Heaven, where you know we have a dear mother 
and four darling; little brothers. But this is not all or 
the most. There is a precious Saviour there, who is 
perfectly holy, and all who enter that place must be 
holy too. Are you holy ? Perhaps you may think that 
you may be good enough ; that you have never done 



*12 RELIGION IN SCHOOL — A REVIVAL. 

anything very wrong ; but you do not know your own 
heart, and it is enough that Christ has said you are a 
sinner, and that unless you repent you cannot be saved. 
Perhaps you want to know then, how you are to repent. 
Christ died for you, and you have only to cast your 
sins upon Him. If you do not understand, know, and 
feel, you have only to ask hirn, and he will grant you 
his Holy Spirit to teach you all things." 

[The whole Gospel is summed up in that paragraph, 
reader ; everything needed to save — not the righteous 
—but a sinner.] 

" I hope and pray that you will think a great deal 
of these things, and will pray a great deal for Christ 
to show you your sinfulness, and make you a true 
follower of Him and an heir of Heaven. 

"Now I have something for you to do. Give a 
kiss for me to all, give Georgie at least a dozen, if the 
rest will not be envious ; then take for yourself as 
many as you give all the rest, if you can add it up 
yourself. 

u Your affectionate brother, 

"Kingman." 



TO A DEAR FRIEND. 

^ "January 2. 

" For a week or two past I have been almost wholly 
absorbed with the study of my own character, and the 
nature and requirements of true Christianity. ... It is 
with a heart melting with penitence and with gratitude, 
that I tell you that the Holy Spirit is in the midst of 
us. I fear, dear , that I may incur your censure 



RELIGION IX SCHOOL — A REVIVAL. 73 

for what you may consider a stepping out of my place. 
I wish not to reprove or advise, but I must say that rny 
anxiety for your spiritual welfare has been, at times, 
intense. Where are the resolutions you expressed in 
your last ? I know you cannot be actively engaged in 
the service of our Master, nor is your spirit refreshed 
by the light of our Saviour's countenance. Yet you 
are acquainted with all the motives which urge to 
Christian activity ; you know their number, their 
weight ; and what can I say more ? I shall continue 
to be earnest and frequent in prayer for you ; and shall 
do so with more freedom, when I shall be sure that 
you know I am endeavoring from day to day to pray 
in your behalf. 

" For my own part, I desire to be found at work. I 
have been idle long enough. O how glorious to me is 
the thought of doing something for the glory of God, 
and of being made the instrument of saving deathless 
spirits from everlasting woe, and raising them to com- 
munion with the infinitely Holy God! God nerve me 
for the work." 

In a memorandum under date of Jan. 26, 1851, the 
anniversary of his conversion, he writes : " 'Tis to-day 
two years since I was enabled by the grace of God to 
surrender my helpless soul into the hands of Him who 
formed it, and who died to redeem it. I have recalled 
the vows made at that period, and entered into a 
renewal of them, consecrating myself afresh to God. 

" In a review of the past year, I am excited to great 
gratitude, on the one hand, that I am still in the exer- 
cise of a hope, founded, I trust, on Christ, that should 

7 



74 RELIGION IN SCHOOL A REVIVAL. 

I now be called to the spirit land, my soul could greet 
her Saviour with heavenly rapture. ' Oh ! that hope — 
how bright, how glorious !' 

" On the other hand, I am compelled to confess that 
I have made but little advancement in the divine life. 
My circumstances have been completely changed. Re- 
moved from my beloved home and church, I have 
come among strangers. I have been freed from many 
restraints, and thrown among very different classes of 
associates, etc. O, I need to pray without ceasing ! 
A great work is before me. Christ himself displays 
the glittering crown. 

" The prime antidote to declension and coldness will 
be found in communion with God. I wish to guard 
well this point. 

" for more entire consecration to God ! Let me 
devote all to Him. May I guard against idleness, as 
the avenue to every vice, and strive to fit my soul for 
the service of God on earth, and His praises in 
Heaven." 



CHAPTER VI. 

Call to Preach — A Pilgrimage. 

Kingman had not yet decided upon his future pro- 
fession, but simply held himself at the disposal of his 
Master. But at this time he received his " call." The 
account is given in the following letter to his father : 

"March 24, 1851. 

. . . . " You will no doubt be glad to hear that your 
absent son is enjoying the influence of the Holy Spirit 
more fully than for some time. I must again thank you 
and mother for that New Year's gift [Life of Taylor], 
I fully believe that its precious pages have been a means 
of increasing in some degree my religious strength, and 
confirming my principles. 

" A week ago yesterday was perhaps one of the most 
eventful Sabbaths I ever passed. I never listened with 
more intense interest to the preaching of the word. In 
the afternoon we were addressed by Mr. Bertram, a 
missionary from St. Helena. He told us his tale briefly, 
and made an earnest appeal to the young men ; but no- 
thing spoke so loud to me, or forced such weight upon 
me, as the facts and my own reflections." 

[There follows an account of Mr. Bertram's missionary 
operations in St. Helena.] 



76 CALL TO PREACH — A PILGRIMAGE. 

He continues : — " It is wonderful how much God 
may be pleased to accomplish by the instrumentality 
of a single man, unaided, except by divine power ! 

" You well know that my mind has never been set- 
tled upon any vocation for life. Though I have for 
some time been bent on acquiring an education, and 
have felt desirous of employing it for the service of my 
Master, yet I have never decided in what particular way 
to employ it — simply because I was unable to deter- 
mine whether it was my duty to preach the gospel, or 
to engage in a secular calling ; and thus I have been 
always waiting for some future event, in God's own 
time, to direct me right. For a week past my mind has 
been occupied with these thoughts. Saturday morning, 
bright and beautiful, ushered in by the familiar notes 
of the returned robins, was a solemn and yet joyous 
time for me. An hour and a quarter before breakfast 
was spent in a grove in prayer and reflection with 
reference to my commencing the eighteenth, year of 
my life. What constitutes a call to preach the Gospel? 
My notions are changed, whether for right or wrong 
you can determine. Is it a special, and, to the uniniti- 
ated, a mysterious revelation, that it is the will of the 
Deity to constitute one an ambassador for Christ ? If so, 
I am yet in the dark. Or, does the command to the 
Apostles, l Go ye into all the world and preach the 
Gospel to every creature,' make it binding on every 
Christian to do all in his power, in his own sphere,, 
to further the execution of this command, until it be 
accomplished ? If so, then let him who has love for 
souls and love for Christ, and intellectual and physical 
abilities, and who, the cost being counted, comes to a 



CALL TO PKEACH — A PILGKIHAGE. 77 

deliberate and firm conclusion that he is ready to 
endure the cross, relying on God alone for support, go 
forward and preach the Gospel as a door shall be 
opened! If this is it, then I do think I can firmly say, 
k Here I am, Lord, prepare and send me J 

" Great and self-denying is the work ; and I suppose, 
too, that my present conceptions are but faint compared 
with the reality ; but great also are the motives for under- 
taking the work, and great the Power on whom we may 
lean, and to whom look for guidance." 

The subject is continued in another letter, and his 
own aspirations more exactly defined. 

TO THE SAME. 

"April 14. 

" I was very glad to receive your kind letter, and to 
find that your views upon the subject introduced are 
similar to those which I had somewhat timidly enter- 
tained. 

" I had not considered that in giving myself to the 
work of an evangelist, or preacher of the Gospel, the 
office of pastor was included. In fact, to speak freely, 
I have not by any means decided upon that, or been 
led to look upon it as the office which I am to fill. I 
do not think it adapted to me, from this consideration ; 
it affords too great temptations to my pride and fond- 
ness of display. I am very fond of speaking ; and a 
pulpit and pastorate at home would not offer a safe 
position to me, in this age of worldliness and formality. 
I have often thought of the colporteur's work as an 
intermediate step; but if my present views do not alter, 

7* 



78 CALL TO PREACH — A PILGRIMAGE. 

nor something unforeseen oppose, ray course shall be 
to seek out some dark — darkest corner of this planet, 
where the light of revelation has never penetrated. 
This is my ambition. 

" The thought of the stupidity of men in this country, 
whose slumbering consciences give them no trouble, 
nor awake at the sound of the revelations of God's 
word, affects my heart ; but when I think of human 
beings created on a level with the rest of mankind, who 
know not even that there is a God, that there is a 
Saviour, or any need of salvation ; nay, nor that they 
have souls, and are to exist after death, I cannot rest. . . 

" I hope I may be guided aright — kept both from 
erroneous views and sinful practices. That this maybe 
so, I ask, and know that I shall have your prayers." 

These expressions of longings for a distant and difficult 
field of toil, were not the vague language of youthful 
and uninstructed enthusiasm. 

If a romantic fancy gave unreal coloring to the pic- 
tures he drew of future self-sacrifice and labor, yet the 
outlines of these sketches were traced with a firm and 
true hand. His zeal was genuine and holy ; and though 
differently directed in after life than he had anticipated, 
it burned as purely and warmly in New York as it would 
have done in Burmah. 

The Spring vacation was occupied with a pedestrian 
tour — a sort of pious pilgrimage : i.e. a visit to a vener- 
able relative, the late Rev. Dr. Nott, of Franklin, Conn., 
a brother of Dr. Nott of Schenectady. At the time of 



CALL TO PEEACH — A PILGRIMAGE. Id 

the visit he was considerably past ninety ; he died at 
the age of ninety-nine. The letter descriptive of the 
visit is so graphic, and intrinsically so interesting, that 
we quote portions. See his hearty, honest enthusiasm, 
not afraid to express itself, and compelled to resort to 
plentiful italics and triple exclamation points ! 

"May 12th, 1851. 
* Dear Father, — 

" I have seen him ! that most venerable patriarch ! 
My long-cherished desire has finally, in the good 
providence of God, been gratified, and I have looked 
upon, conversed with, and received instruction from, the 
reverend man, Dr. Nott, of Franklin ! ! ! 

" But perhaps your first inquiry may be, ' How came 
you here ? ' Do not be displeased with your runaway 
son, and all shall be explained. With umbrella and 
carpet-bag I left Suffield last Wednesday morning with 
the crowd, but though I strove to make it seem like 
vacation, and leaving school tor home, and to appear 
like the rest of the company, I could not help realizing 
the sad difference. While others were indulging in 
unbounded glee, ' Oh, Fm going home ! home ! home !' 
my lot was different." 

He spends the night in Hartford, and next morning, 
to continue his own account: "I slung my carpet-bag 
on my umbrella over my shoulder, and set out for 
Franklin, thirty-six miles distant. ' Labor improbus 
omnia vincit, nee aspera terrent,' and when these mot- 
toes did not suffice, Dr. Nott did. At last I actually 
reached the top of the .everlastingly long hill, stood by 
the neat little meeting-house, and was soon, with a 



80 CALL TO PEEACH — A PILGRIMAGE. 

burning face and quick-beating heart, trudging up the 
old lane, till I came in sight of the old mansion." 

He enters, and "Soon the door opened, and in came 
the oldest man I had ever seen. He walked with a tall 
cane, his hair was literally white, he wore the old small- 
clothes, etc. I met him in the middle of the room and 
shook hands. 'Well, I don't know who you are,' he 
said, in a shrill clear voice, very pleasantly. I told him 
my name was Kott. He seemed mightily pleased^ and 
said, ' Well, I'm glad to see you for your name's sake. 
Pray, to what family of the Xotts do you belong ! ' 
Tm son of Handel Nott* ■ Olu ice all know Handel 
Nott !! ' This news pleased the Dr. very much. ' I'm 
glad to see you for your fathers sake, and for your sake. 
Then he told of his boyish days (before the Revolution- 
ary war) ; his father's house burning, and his mother 
pulling him out by the hair of his head and throwing 
him on the green, etc. ' Why,' said he, ' it seems but 
a little while since I was a boy, running about Petti- 
paug.' As soon as I had satisfied his inquiries about 
Handel, and he had got to talking, he would forget the 
whole, and again ask me the same round of questions, 
1 Whose son are you P etc. 

" The Dr. is in his study as much as ever. Beads 
much of the time and without glasses ! Selects his texts 
and writes parts of sermons !! Pores over his old 
manuscripts a great deal. He still attends meeting 
twice on the Sabbath rain or shine ; sits in the pulpit; 
often makes the last prayer. He kneels and prays with 
his family daily. His prayers are the most 'pointed and 
excellent I ever heard, and as varied, in form and expres- 
sion as ever! 



CALL TO PEEACH A PILGEIAIAGE. 81 

"He thinks he preaches now constantly. What 
astonishes me as much as anything is his constant good- 
nature and flow of spirits. He exhibits ten times the life 
and energy in his talk that one half of our young ministers 
do. Nothing ruffles or displeases him in the least. He 
always turns off everything unpleasant with some pithy 
hit and a laugh. He waits on himself in almost every- 
thing. If he wants more fire he will hobble off, get 
wood and fuss about the stove at a great rate. 

" The Dr. seemed quite brisk last evening — telling 
about his long life, ministry, great changes, etc. ; and as 
he spoke of ' fitting a great many for college,' I took 
this opportunity of introducing myself again, by saying, 
4 You fitted my father for college.' ' Ah, I don't know 
whose son you are, I'm sure,' he said, laughing. ' Handel 
Xott's.' He took my arm in his withered hand and 
shook it long and heartily, at the same time laughing 
for pleasure and saying, * Ah, I did not know I had one 
of my cousins here !' Then he wanted to know how I 
came, etc., etc. Being told I came the day before, he 
said he did not remember it, and referred to his ' be- 
toildering cold? Poor old man ! this has been his com- 
plaint for a long time ; to this he refers the wasting 
away of his once powerful mind. 

" This afternoon I had the most lively conversation 
with him of all. He asked me the customary round of 
questions. When he inquired about your occupation 
I varied my usual reply of ' a minister ' and said, 
i A Baptist minister? 'A Baptist! well, that's a 
rarity ! that's out of the line ! I wonder how he came 
to be a Baptist ! Well I hope he will make a good 
one!' .... He likes to tell of the changes he has 



82 CALL TO PEEACH — A PILGRIMAGE. 

passed through in his long life : — blacksmith, shoe- 
maker and tanner, school-master, — 4 went through 
College, and, as the Irishman said, had to work my 
own passage ; — then, after I got through, I put my 
brother Eliphalet through ; — fitted a great many for 
college, and been a minister a long time.' 

" A long time indeed ! Seventy years has he been 
pastor of this church ! He says, ' It seems but a short 
time to look back when I preached my first sermon 
here. The text is now in mind, " 1 ask, therefore, for 
what intent ye have sent for me P The people all 
stared a time, for I announced the words before I told 
them the place. Those who were then here have 
passed away. Not one of those w T ho asked me to 
settle here is now living. The present senior deacon 
of my chnrch was born the same year I came here* 
Well, we must all die, or grow old P . . . . 

" To-day he asked me, ' And what are you ? The 
question took me wholly by surprise — I laughed, and 
told him I was a student. c Fitting for college, hey V 
I told him I was. 'Well, I hope you will do better 
than any of your predecessors.' This I felt set my 
mark high." 

On his return from his pleasant excursion he thus 
expresses his resolutions for the next term. 

TO HIS FATHER. 

May 23, 1851. 
" I suppose you may wish to be apprised of my safe 
return to my ' post,' and entrance upon the duties of 



CALL TO PREACH — A PILGRIMAGE. 83 

another quarter I never entered upon studies 

with more ardor. I have a definite object now in view 
(the ministry), my purpose is fixed — and it is the most 
worthy and noble that ever fired the breast of an 
ambitious youth. I delight in my work, and in the 
consciousness of God's assistance and grace, in answer 
to my unworthy prayers. I hope I may be kept by His 
grace, directed by His Spirit in the path of usefulness, 
and finally taken to Himself. 

" I am disappointed in each letter from home, not to 
hear of a revival in my church at home. I feel attached 
to that body and that people, and it is my prayer that 
my father's labors there may be blessed by the conver- 
sion of souls 

" Mr. Woodbury tells me he wants me to do some- 
thing transcendental this — the last quarter ! . . . . 

" Let me hear from home each week ; and with 
studies and work, the changing weather and exciting 
scenes, the eleven weeks will soon flit away, and the 
*7th of August arrive to bear me through the Old Bay 
State to rocky K — port. Provided that God's good 
providence shall so order." 



CHAPTER VIII. 

Resoluteness — " I must have an education" — The 
Anniversary — Recollections. 

As the end of the school-year approached, the ques- 
tion began to be discussed, whether it would be possible 
for Kingman to continue his course, as he had intended. 
Would not a partial course suffice ? Would not a year 
or two more at Suffield answer the necessary purposes, 
without incurring the expense and pecuniary risk of 
going to college? No doubt, the most thorough train- 
ing was desirable, but how if it could not be procured ? 

To all this Kingman replied by reiterating his uncon- 
querable determinations ; and the correspondence on 
his part displays so remarkably the resoluteness of his 
character, his enterprise, and happy faculty of looking 
on the brio-ht side and making the best of circum- 
stances, that we quote liberally. 

There was involved in his project, the wish to go to 
Yale. This was overruled : the other portions of his 
plan he carried by main force. 

" June 6, 1851. 
" My Dear Parents, 

" I have for some time been desirous of talking 

with my friends with relation to my future course ; still, 



RESOLUTENESS. 85 

as your wishes were not known to me, I have refrained. 
Of late, I have been inquiring and pondering with rela- 
tion to the advantages and expense of various colleges, 
compared with each other, and with the advanced 
course at Suffield. 

" A letter received to-day damps my spirits and dis- 
courages me not a little. But pray consider I 

stand with my occupation for life now immovably fixed 
upon. I can say immovably, because my purpose seems 
to grow stronger and deeper daily ; and it is a source, 
too, of constant satisfaction and pleasure. 

" It is dear to me, as the lofty-laid plans of any aspir- 
ing youth. Now, I propose to express to you my own 
desires, and leave it with you to see whether my plans 
are, in your opinion, practicable. In a word, I am bent 
on obtaining a thorough and complete collegiate educa- 
tion .... 

" The difficulty, the main obstruction in your mind, 
I suppose is — expense ! Now, I cannot believe that it 
will cost more to go to college than to remain here : — 
at any rate, but very little more . . . 

"I have my denominational prejudices, to a certain 
extent, regarding colleges ; still, colleges are not, I sup- 
pose, practically different to the student. To Yale Col- 
lege I have very strong attachments. I know not what 
your views and wishes are. Mother's remark, I shall 
never forget ; it awakened a thrill. 4 You can then go 
[after teaching a year or two, as was then proposed] to 
what college you please ; you can go to Yale.' Not 
only the long standing and lofty reputation of this in- 
stitution move me ; but its shades seem very peculiarly 
sacred and endeared, because previous Notts, not with- 

8 



86 RESOLUTENESS. 

out distinction, and my own father dwelt among 
ihem. 

TO THE SAME, A FEW DAYS LATER. 

"Thanks for your letter ; but I must confess, that I 
had some hopes of hearing something more conclusive. 
However, I felt the reasonableness of the considerations 
you urged ; and when I had read your letter and mo- 
ther's, I half concluded that it was best to give up all 
my fond plans for going to Yale, yielding without a 
word to the wishes and advice of friends. 

" The most important point, however, seems to me 
to lie back of all that has been said ; and having pon- 
dered your inquiries, as I am able, and prayed for the 
directing influences of the Spirit, I shall endeavor to 
state to you as freely, and as candidly as I can — -just 
my state of mind, my hopes and desires, and what 
they are founded on. 

" 1 am not my own. I owe a debt of gratitude to 
my Redeemer, greater than it is in my power to re- 
pay, and I feel desirous of doing what I can to pro- 
mote his glory. This end, I believe, I can most effec- 
tually attain by preaching the Gospel. I love the work. 
I glory in it. I am determined to engage in it. This 
point is, in my own mind, firmly settled., and my prayer 
is, i may God nerve and fit me for it, and make me in- 
strumental in the salvation of dying souls.' I believe I 
am a Christian ; I believe I have been led by the Spi- 
rit ; I believe God has called me to this work ; and 
my present work is, to prepare my mind and heart for 
engaging most advantageously in it. 

" Accordingly, I am anxious to obtain a thorough 



KESOLUTENESS. 87 

education. How, and where can I best accomplish 
that ? The heart, I believe, can be cultivated at one 
college as well as at another. Then, how and where 
can I best cultivate what intellectual faculties God 
has given me ? An important inquiry ! — because, sup- 
posing the heart to be right, I can accomplish the more 
in proportion as my mind becomes trained ; for, my 
powers of doing will thus become greater; and cer- 
tainly my influence among men of the present age 
will, in no small degree, depend upon my standing 
as a man, independently of my religion. 

" With these views, I endeavor to stand — waiting as 
patiently as possible to discover an open way — the path 
of duty. 

" Yet, I have a word or two to say about colleges, or 
I shall not have told you all. I do not wish to go 

counter to your wishes, or to reason, etc. etc 

.... Now the point in my own mind is this — Can you 
give me your consent to go to Yale, and provide me 
with a hundred dollars a year, as you mentioned ? 
[Through the aid of his uncle.] 

" Is it unreasonable to suppose that, with this assist- 
ance, T could get along for one year ? I really think 
not. Let me at least make a trial. Of course all will 
depend on my doing well. If a student gains the 
confidence of the Faculty, he will not be obliged to 
leave on account of poverty. God has, I believe, given 
me the powers to excel, or at least to do well, and I will. 

" My ' spending money ' would not be a large sum. 
My clothing will, in considerable part, come from my 
predecessors. I can board myself, if necessary. In the 
vacations, I can do something- as book agent. 



88 RESOLUTENESS. 

" But besides all these things, my opinion regarding 
one point has changed within some months. I used to 
think that I never should be willing to be connected 
with the Education Society. It cut my pride to think 
of being dependent on strangers, and bound to pursue a 
certain profession. Since I was led to form the purpose 
of preaching, my feelings, directed, I trust, by the Spirit 
of God, have changed. Anxious to serve Him, I desire 
to lay hold of the best advantages he presents me, to 
fit myself most adequately for the work. 

" It seems as though I had almost been but dabbling 
till within but a short time. I know young men are 
apt to be impatient to enter upon public life. I wish 
not to be hasty or unreasonable. 

" But, parents dear, my work of intellectual prepa- 
ration will be a long one. God has given me some mind y 
and whatever it is, I mean to cultivate it as much as is 
in my power. 

"I have myself the fullest confidence and faith that, 
could I but gain your consent to start, I could get 
through, by kind Providence. 

" I am fast passing to eighteen ; — the time seems too 
short which will make me a man. 

u O! I need every moment, and every advantage I can 
gain, to prepare for my arduous work. If I am wild 
and unreasonable, tell me and check me. The subject 
is not presented without previous study, close calcula- 
tion, reliable information. If my friends deem it abso- 
lutely necessary that I keep out another year, I shall 
strive to acquiesce without murmuring. I would not 
have my parents do more than they have done. I trust 
not to manifest the least ingratitude' or want of appre- 



RESOLUTENESS. 89 

ciation of their exertions. May I prove worthy of 
them." 



Here strong hope comes to him : 



" June 11. 



My Dear Father, — 

" Thank you for your kind letter, advice and en- 
couragement — which so far exceeded my expectations 
that I almost wept tears of joy. I feel now a good 
degree of hope, and have set about the work of review- 
ing and preparing in earnest ; for if I go, I do not want 
to be lost among the vast crowd of youthful aspirants, 
and the time is very short. I am waiting in suspense 
to know whether you succeed in your kind endeavors 
on my behalf; if so, I have no fears as to getting along. 
I have been making liberal estimates of expenses at 
Yale. There are young men there who have sustained 
themselves entirely during their course by teaching 
classes in New Haven," etc., etc. 

And here is disappointment : 

" July 15. 

" I now hasten to reply, as the matter seems settled 
for the present. 

" So I must give up my too fondly cherished plan for 
going to Yale, and retracing my father's steps. I am 
willing to yield to the better judgment of my friends, 
anxious not to appear bent upon my own course, or 
ungrateful for favors shown." 

It was settled, however, that he should go to college, 
and that without delay. 

8* 



90 RESOLUTENESS. 

The u Anniversary n now came, with its scenes of ex- 
citement and, to Kingman, of bewildering delight. The 
poor student, who had had little but industry and faith, 
and that word of power, which was better than any 
talisman, duty, had prevailed. He had fought his way 
through. 

Now he is a " graduate ! " He has a seat, for the 
first time, upon a public platform, and — novel experience 
— is a public speaker! He stands before the great 
audience — in his queer and threadbare coat — the love- 
liness of his soul making itself radiant upon his face — 
himself forgetful of himself. Soon he holds the people 
by an unexpected spell — there is applause — and he has 
the joy of & first oratorical triumph. 

In a crumpled old Programme we read thus : 
u 

" MUSIC. 



44 11. 



" 12. The Classics the Foundation of English Litera- 
ture. 

" A. Kingman Nott, Kennebunkport, Me." 

Underneath is written, in a stranger's hand, 

" You do Nott need praise, but you merit it." 

And a torn, irregular scrap of paper, that was found 



EESOLUTENESS. 91 

tucked carefully away in the pocket of a much be-scrib- 
bled little memorandum-book for 1851, evidently was 
precious for a lady's compliment. 

" I am very glad that my native state has produced 
one of the best speakers on this occasion." 

Now good-bye to Suffield. The expected YtK of 
August " rolls him through the beautiful Old Bay State 
to rocky Kennebunkport ." The friends are all there 
whom he has not seen for more than a year, "and now," 
he exclaims, " are we not almost happy /" 

Now there is a long vacation and rest: — rambles, 
swimming, boating, berrying again, and preaching too, 
after the old fashion which he has not forgotten. 

Kingman's friend, Theron Brown, thus continues the 
" Reminiscences " from which we have already quoted. 

11 1 need not say how much more intimate and pre- 
cious was my fellowship with Kingman after this 
change. Our intercourse was now entirely without 

restraint Kingman went to College and left me 

alone, for I did not find another friend like him — so 
tender, so sincere, so generous to all my faults, so per- 
fectly genial in temper, and refined in taste 

u Kingman never alluded to Suffield in his subsequent 
letters without expressing the strongest affection for the 
scenes and persons that he remembered there. It was 
there that he, the scholar, the orator, and the youthful 
Christian, exhibited a picture of his life of single purpose, 



92 RESOLUTIONS. 

And though I saw him in the winter of '55-6 more 
manly in appearance, and more keen in the use of his 
many acquirements, yet he had not materially changed. 
It was at Suffield that he learned self-dependence amid 
the praises and the little envies of schoolmates, and it 
was here that he exercised his boyish eloquence in the 
excitements of youthful debate, and his scarcely less 
impassioned exhortations to impenitent associates. It 
was in Suffield that I formed the estimate of his charac- 
ter which I still cherish after the confirmation of six 
years' correspondence. I never saw a man of so much 
meekness. He seemed to me to be utterly incapable 
of revenge. I never saw a man wear honor with a 
better grace. I never saw a man who at so early an 
age had so much singleness of heart joined to so much 
polish of mind. In brief, I never saw a man who com- 
mended himself in so many points to my affection and 
esteem. 

" I feel his loss — I loved him. 

" — ' But my Lord and his 
Had loved him long before, 

Weeping, I turn me where he is, , 
And wish — but will not murmur more.' " 

The great topic of family discussion, for the few 
weeks following K.'s return to Kennebankport, was, " to 
what College can the boy best go?" The new and 
thriving University of Rochester was the institution 
which, after much debate, was fixed upon, and it was a 
choice which K. never had cause to regret* 

18 



CHAPTER IX. 
College History. — General Characteristics, 

Up to this point we have been able to trace distinctly 
the shaping power of circumstances in Kingman's de- 
velopment. Not without constant pressure and direc- 
tion from the external, have the processes of spiritual 
and mental growth been carried on — an honest heart 
and right will keeping the soul open and susceptible to 
the good, that infallibly resides in all circumstances, for 
the well-disposed. 

When we now behold the subject of this history, 
while his character is yet only partially formed, removed 
into a new sphere, and subjected to influences before 
untried, we at once infer that God has a special design 
in the transfer, and we look with interest to see what 
are the new forces brought to bear, and what their 
effect. 

Kingman first set foot in Rochester about the begin- 
ning of September, 1851. Fresh from the Academy, a 
provincial and narrow world, he found himself under 
the more expanding and generous influences of a Col- 
lege. Fresh from the country, too, with its staidness 
and quiet, he was now in a bustling city. But the change 
was advantageous. Rochester, distinguished for plea- 



94 COLLEGE HISTORY. 

santness of situation, and for fine scenery as well as 
softer rural charms within the very limits of the solid 
town — " The Rural City" — offered to him still the real 
sweetness of a country home, while it added this, that 
it brought him into contact with a mass of men suffi- 
ciently numerous to constitute together an epitome of 
the race, and sufficiently dense to feel without abatement 
or long delay the vibration of events and of changing 
opinion in the great world. The book of nature was still 
open to him, while that of human nature, unabridged, 
was spread wide. This may appear an important ad- 
vantage, if it be reflected that to one intending to 
devote his life to the persuasion of men, knowledge of 
men is a good preliminary acquisition ; and, certainly, 
to study human nature in the original, is more effica- 
cious than ever so careful pondering of the renderings 
of it given by philosophers, theologians — or novelists. 

It was another advantage of dwelling in a city at 
this period, that, by mere contagion of the general 
activity, though in material concerns, the mind even of 
the scholar was quickened to a more perpetual liveli- 
ness, and thus grew to be more prompt, quick, energetic, 
and versatile, if not actually more powerful than it 
might, in greater seclusion. Is it not to the causes now 
mentioned that we should trace, in considerable degree, 
many of the traits that afterwards contributed to make 
the young pastor a favorite— the brisk and animated 
manner and urbane polish — as well as the knowledge 



COLLEGE HISTORY. 95 

of affairs and familiarity with the intricacies of the 
human heart, which qualified him for a leader ? 

The University of Rochester, of which Kingman 
now became a member, had been recently founded, and 
possessed the vigor of healthy youth. It was a conse- 
quence, perhaps, of the recentness of its origin, that 
among its hundred and thirty or forty students, a spirit 
of order and of wholesome emulation was more prevalent 
than usual in colleges. High scholarship was com- 
mon, and a rare value was set on excellence in compo- 
sition and in extemporaneous speaking. A young man 
felt himself bound to excel in something ; if not, by 
some chance out of his own control, in mathematics 
or Greek, then certainly with the pen or in the accom- 
plishments of an orator : and an idler, or a " good 
fellow," found no toleration. The Literary Societies 
were sustained with uncommon enterprise. The de- 
bates, which were publicly held, and attracted consider- 
able audiences, called out usually the whole power 
of the disputants ; and the bi-weekly " Paper" in each 
Society was certainly conducted with an ability which 
would have won reputation to any public literary gazette. 
A similar animation reigned in all the departments of the 
college. Industry, alertness, enterprise — these were the 
watchwords. Nobody was allowed to be dull. A pro- 
fessor felt the same obligation to be vital, as learned. 

Such was the practical spirit in both the institutions 
' — the University of Rochester, and the Rochester 



96 COLLEGE HISTORY. 

Theological Seminary. It is easy to see how suited to 
interest and stimulate our young student. 

There was, similarly, an active religious life ; demon- 
strative and outgoing, but not yet so occupied with 
merely radiating, as to forget the essentialness of main- 
taining central, intrinsic heat. In the city and the 
suburbs there was abundant opportunity for missionary 
enterprises. Though a "City of Churches," at least 
one-third of the population was papist, and more than 
a handful infidel. Mission Sunday-schools and mis- 
sion preaching establishments occupied a portion of the 
leisure Sunday hours of almost every religious student 
in College. 

Kingman himself, the very week of his first arrival, 
enlisted in a Sunday-school held in a school-house at 
the " Lower Falls," on the Genesee River two miles 
below the city, and occupied faithfully the post, soon 
adding familiar preaching to teaching, until near the 
end of his course — and until after a church (Presby- 
terian) had been formed, and a comfortable meeting- 
house substituted, for the school-room as the place of 
assembling. Two or three other students, to whom 
equal credit is due, were colleagues of his in the enterprise. 

Kino-man's conduct and scholarship are described, 
and many traits of his character as at this time exhi- 
bited and developing, are pleasingly illustrated, in the 
following sketch by Dr. Anderson, President of the 
University : 



COLLEGE HISTORY. 97 

a I first knew him, 1 ' says Dr. Anderson, " in child- 
hood while his father was pastor in Bath, Me. During 
my college vacations I frequently met him, then a 
child of eight or nine years, at my father's house. He 
was a model of childish grace and vigor, overflowing 
with the buoyant animal spirits which are the sure 
indications of a healthy moral and physical constitu- 
tion. Even then he gave indication of that capacity 
for ready and elegant expression, which he seems to 
me to have acquired from his mother, whom all her 
friends remember as a woman of high culture and 
extraordinary conversational power. Cicero said of the 
Gracchi that they acquired their mastery of Latin in 
the lap of their mother. Kingman's ear and tongue 
were trained from infancy to the discrimination and 
utterance of elegant English. That mastery of language 
which enabled him to adjust words to thought with 
such mingled rapidity and exactness was the result, not 
merely of natural power, but of assiduous training. 

"After these early years I knew little of him until my 
removal to Rochester, where I found him a member of 
the Junior Class in the University. My early religious 
obligations to his father, and the memory of his own 
early years, naturally led me to take a personal interest 
in his success as a student. I found him conscious that 
certain public efforts in which he had engaged during 
the previous year, had somewhat interfered with his 
prescribed course of study, and he voluntarily expressed 
his determination to permit nothing within his control 
to set aside the great object of furnishing and disci- 
plining his faculties for future labor. The pledge thus 
voluntarily made he most fully redeemed, and I never 

9 



98 COLLEGE HISTOEY. 

had occasion to complain of his failure in duty. He 
had special facility as a linguist, but he was able to 
master easily any of the scientific studies which were 
put before him, and in the metaphysical department to 
obtain marked distinction. 

" Not having been able, by reason of absence, to obtain 
a satisfactory understanding of a portion of the Mathe- 
matics of the Sophomore year, he reviewed carefully I 
Analytical Geometry of the course, attending th 
tions of the Professor in that department, after he 
had graduated and entered upon his professional 
in the Theological Seminary. Though pressed by the 
severe labor required in the Seminary, he found time 
also to join a class of resident graduates for the reading 
of Plato, and another in German. I am the more care- 
ful to allude to these facts, because the idea has been 
entertained by some that Kingman owed his success to 
genius alone, independent of scholarship and long-con- 
tinued mental discipline. Taking as a standard the 
best class of graduates from American colleges, it is 
bare justice to say that Kingman entered public life a 
sound and accurate scholar, and no one was more 
ready than he to recognise the value of both liberal 
and professional education. 

" Genius is the power of rapid working in one or many 
different directions. Kingman's mind naturally moved 
with extraordinary rapidity. By intellectual discipline 
and culture, this rapidity acquired systematic direction 
and orderly movement. He was often able to look upon 
all sides of a complicated subject, and search out all its 
relations, during a time in which another mind of equal 
soundness, but with slower rate of movement, would 



COLLEGE HISTORY. 99 

hardly have seized upon its most obvious bearings. He 
brought more to pass intellectually than other men, 
because he was able and willing to do more work. 
Those instances of rapid combination and facility of 
language and illustration, which seemed so like inspira- 
tion, were the result of the same process through which 
ordinary minds pass, varying in his case only in the 
velocity with which the results were accomplished. 
This power of rapid mental action was accompanied by 
the impulse to its exercise. Hence the fertility of his 
mind and his capacity for meeting the many and various 
drafts which were made upon his resources during his 
public life. Many thoughtful men predicted that a man 
so young could not meet, for any considerable time, the 
intellectual demands of the place to which he was 
called. Those who knew his mental habits and consti- 
tution had no fears in this respect. A mind so well 
furnished and active is a living spring, and not a reser- 
voir. Its power of literary production is measured only 
by the body's capacity for endurance. 

* His mental activity was not of that disorderly and 
unproductive kind which reaches no tangible result, 
and leaves no clear and positive impression. His most 
rapid thinking was analytical and orderly. It was for 
this reason he was never confused. His thinking, when 
obliged to speak with little time for reflection, might not 
have been equal to his highest capacity, but it* was 
never wanting in system or clearness. Whatever ideas 
lie had, on a subject were always under his com- 
mand, and compelled to array themselves in the best 
possible order for convincing and impressing other 
minds. 



100 COLLEGE HISTORY. 

" The religious development of his mind, while in the 
University, was marked and striking. In the course 
of the Junior year, aud especially after the day of 
prayer in behalf of institutions of learning, he seemed 
to have acquired a new and very decided impulse 
towards a higher Christian life. This was manifested 
by no abatement of his habitual joyonsness of mien, 
but rather by a more careful and conscientious atten- 
tion to the discharge of all duty, both secular and 
religious. A college friend of his lately informed me, 
that at this period he formed the habit of rising at an 
early hour, and spending a specific time in reading the 
Scriptures and devotion. In the exercise of reading 
lie placed before him the Greek of the New Testament, 
or the Septuagint, and by its side the Latin, German, 
and English versions, and examined them in turn, care- 
fully comparing the shades of expression in each. This 
practice was faithfully continued during his remaining 
course as a student. 

" His earnestness of religious life was especially 
shown in the religious labor which he performed 
among his classmates and acquaintances in the Uni- 
versity. He was very constant in his attendance upon 
all the devotional meetings, and gave much time to 
personal religious conversation. His remarks and 
prayers in these meetings were marked by spirituality 
of tone and the most intense exhibition of personal 
allegiance to the Saviour. Doubtless some of his most 
effective effusions of natural eloquence were thrown off 
in these class and college prayer-meetings. I have an 
abiding conviction that his extraordinary success as a 
pastor was in great part due to the training which he 



COLLEGE HISTORY. 101 

gave himself in the performance of pastoral duties 
among his associates in study. 

" A large part of my confidence in his success, when 
he became a pastor, was founded on my knowledge of 
the conscientiousness of bis religious labor while a 
student. In many years' experience among students I 
hive never seen his equal in the judgment, perseve- 
rance, and fidelity with which he performed this per- 
sonal religious labor. Marked as was his success in the 
service of his Master, in New York, it was but the 
natural result of the religious discipline of his student 
life. His capacity for this too much neglected part of 
a pastor's duty was due to some elements that are 
worthy of a moment's notice. In the first place, this 
work was done, not from a goading sense of duty, but 
from a love of the work and from a confident expecta- 
tion of doing good to those whom he addressed. 
Hence there was a reality and heartiness in his repre- 
sentations and appeals, which rarely failed to reach the 
conscience. Connected with this was a living faith in 
the promises of God and the present agency of the 
Holy Spirit. More than any young man whom I ever 
knew, he realized that Christ is a living and present 
Saviour, actually moving among us, and sympathizing 
with our woes and wants. 

" Again, he always labored for a direct and immediate 
practical result. This gave directness and simplicity to 
his language and address. He was never willing to 
utter vague generalities about religion, in the hope 
that in some unexplained way they might at some 
time produce a good effect. He strove for results at 
once, knowing that he who would reach the future 

9* 



102 COLLEGE HISTORY. 

can do so only by impressing the minds of men in the 
present, 

"These facts of Kingman's history seem to me more 
important from the fact, evident to all who knew him, 
that his style of oratory was formed on the model of 
elevated and serious conversation. Hence was derived 
the peculiar individualizing power by which he made 
each hearer in a large congregation feel himself person- 
ally addressed. His public style was concrete, personal, 
and dramatic, because he had trained himself thoroughly 
in addressing men one by one in private. 

"In this work, which Dr. Watts somewhere calls 
1 parlor preaching,' Kingman illustrated another of the 
virtues which entered into the formation of his charac- 
ter. I refer to personal courage. This I am aware 
does not often rank high among clerical accomplish- 
ments. But it may be seriously questioned whether a 
minister or any other man can honestly do his duty 
without it. It was a remark of one of his college ac- 
quaintances that Kingman was constitutionally indiffer- 
ent to physical danger. He was certainly largely im- 
bued with moral courage. In the discharge of religious 
duty he feared no rebuff, or outrage, or opposition. He 
never shrank from conflict with any kind of error, or 
any amount of hatred for truth in the minds of those 
whom he personally addressed. This element of cha- 
racter gave a calmness and regularity to his mental action, 
a tone and force to his public utterance, which added 
greatly to his power to sway and control the minds of men. 

" I have followed out a few only of the manifold sug- 
gestions which have come unbidden into my mind. My 
personal interest in Kingman must be my apology for 



COLLEGE HISTORY. 103 

lingering fondly over his memory. His robust health 
and vigor of constitution gave the promise of a long life, 
u With our short vision of futurity such a death seems 
inscrutable. But in the light of immortality there is no 
waste of power. God has taken the departed to a higher 
sphere of existence where the * larger movements of 
the unfettered mind. ' have their natural place in the 
grand economy of heaven. He has left the example 
behind him of an elevated and earnest Christian life, 
which speaks with an eloquence which even his living 
voice could not equal." 

This judicious sketch needs small supplementing — 
but remarks on a few points will not be superfluous. 

From the first he showed a remarkable genius for 
writing, and a still greater for public speaking. Gay ? 
sparkling, or satirical, or easily decorating a closely 
jointed argument with the drapery of illustration and 
metaphor, he was, in the u Society," a favorite essayist 
and u editor." In debate, he was a champion. He did 
not commonly, it is true, by instinct, burrow straight 
down beneath the whole superficies of a subject, and 
through all the accumulations of dust, soil, drift, to what 
was ultimate — the beams of rock on which all rested — 
to " first principles ;" but he took in the whole superior 
landscape at a glance, appreciated it with a military 
eye, encamped on positions from which he could not be 
dislodged, and concentrated from every strong point a 
fire on the ei^emj that blasted him where he stood. 



104 COLLEGE HISTORY. 

Thus he could be overthrown only by the art of under- 
mining, and before this slow and secret process could 
be effected, he was commonly, after a rapid evolution 
or two, exulting over a field swept clear of foes. 

The remarkable qualities he united were, this quick 
appreciation of all the strong points in a case, with per- 
fect command of all his faculties, a mastery of words, 
and the power of constructing perfect sentences in rolling 
succession, extempore and rapidly ; a fancy that easily 
took fire, and a most attractive and bewitching voice 
and manner. " Xott had less logic than some," said a 
contemporary " Delphian," M but he carried everything 
before him by his eloquence." All this is, of course, 
reckoned on the scale of a Young Men's Debating 
'Society. 

President Anderson has spoken in adequate terms of 
Kingman's religious activity in college. He was, in 
truth, during the last years of his course, M college pas- 
tor." For the delicate functions of that assumed office 
his disposition aptly fitted him. He was no grim^ 
morose religionist, feeling solemnly accountable for motes 
in the eyes of others, while ignorant or vain of beams 
in his own ; but he was light-hearted, clear-visioned, 
unsuspicious, frank, and sincere, as a child. With a 
many-sided nature — and windows on every side, so that 
his mind looked out fairly on every aspect of life and 
character, detecting the element of genuineness, and 
therefore, of £Ood, that lies in everything, not vicious, 



COLLEGE HISTORY. 105 

that humanity on the large scale loves to be and do ; 
free from bigotry, therefore, and prejudices, and not 
mistaking gladness for levity, nor a gloomy countenance 
for the proof of a pious spirit — his soul radiating light 
and beauty from his sunny face, he could go where he 
pleased, disarm suspicion, attract confidence, and make 
his way to every heart. 

Yet he accomplished even a greater amount of religi- 
ous work outside of the college than in it. Accounts of 
the various enterprises in which he engaged for doing 
good, particularly in the long summer vacations, will 
be given in their proper places. Only this now — that 
whatever he undertook for God, if only to preach a 
single sermon, he must needs do earnestly. Every- 
where he was driven to personal conversation with 
men. A power also went with him. The cloud of 
God's presence stood constantly over him, and bless- 
ings descended wherever he came. It is safe to say, 
that as large a number of souls was converted through 
his influence while he was a student, as afterwards 
during his pastoral labors in Xew York. 

It is by no means meant to be intimated that his 
conduct in college was always perfectly consistent with 
his religious professions and with his intentions. He 
was developing now — and developing from a depraved 
being into a holy. Yet his departures arose chiefly 
from the influence of a temperament that — in itself — 
was admirable, and was the ground of some of those 



■■» 



106 COLLEGE HISTORY. 

traits wliicli ultimately were his best. His tempera* 
ment was extravagantly gay. Perfect health of body 
and mind — and a spirit, in fact, that chains could not 
have dragged down, made him glad to exuberance. 
Among his companions he u kept the table in a roar," 
not at all by cool witticisms, but by the infectious 
spirit of humor and drollery. In recitation he com- 
pelled the Professor sometimes deliberately to " sup- 
press" him. "Your brother," said President Anderson 
to the writer once, when in Rochester, " is mad with 
fine health and gay spirits. I think of ordering for 
him a strait jacket," 

No words could describe his grotesqueness at times. 
No one could be near him sometimes without being 
filled with laughter. Yet this disposition had no 
alliance with any low tastes : he was no comedian, or 
foolish inventor of petty mischief. He could be se- 
verely sarcastic when he chose ; yet he was unaware 
of this power until he was told of it, much to his aston- 
ishment, by a friend whom he had often uninteutionally 
wounded, and he never deliberately exercised the fatal 
gift (fatal to easy, confidential friendship) with any 
malign or selfish purpose, and was as tender of the 
feelings of others as he was respectful of any of their 
natural rights. 

It is easy to see that gaiety like this would hurry 
him often into culpable extravagances. " I am fear- 
fully light and frivolous again," he writes on one occa« 



COLLEGE HISIORY. 107 

sion ; " these are my besetting sins. The fact is, I do 
not know what to do with my surplus. I shall have 
to open a vein ! " 

Yet the wrongfulness of errors arising from this 
cause, would naturally be exaggerated in the eyes of 
persons of an opposite temperament, or who did not 
know him thoroughly. Beyond any other individual 
the writer ever knew, he was able to pass suddenly 
from one occupation or course of thinking to another, 
most opposite, at the shortest warning, and to pour 
the whole forces of his energies equally any way on 
demand. He played one hour as if he was made for 
nothing else, and studied the next with the abstracted- 
ness of a bookworm. From the most vivacious con- 
versation or uproarious (healthful) mirth, he could go 
at once to his closet, and thence ascend the pulpit, if 
called, when the suffused eye and the indescribable, 
sweet solemnity that seemed not so much expressed 
from his face as to bathe Ms face, like a subtle ether, 
were warrant enough for the genuineness of his 
feeling. 

But persons did not always understand this, and 
such individuals he often shocked severely. When- 
ever he ascertained that he had done harm, whether 
through inattention to " avoiding the mere appearance 
of evil," or through positively indefensible levity, he 
repented with the deepest self-reproaches, and often 
with humiliating confessions. 



108 COLLEGE HISTORY. 

And it is here that the thought that he was develop* 
ing, has a special and interesting application. Dispo- 
sitions and tendencies, latent to a great degree before, 
were now revealing themselves. Thus his conduct for 
a year or two in Rochester was probably not so unde- 
viating from the strictest lines ; his deportment was less 
exact, less severe, than it had been in Suffield. He 
now saw the world in a different aspect ; there were 
new and broader revelations of life ; there were more 
varied appeals to different aptitudes ; and he became 
at once more natural. That is, parts of his nature, 
which before had been hidden, not conquered, now 
burst into activity. Part of the character he possessed 
while at Suffield was unreal — not implying the slightest 
wilful insincerity — the farthest from it — but this : he 
had an ideal, and strove to live it without having grown 
up to it. This was a right attempt, he could do no 
otherwise, — only that he must grow up to it. Or, to 
represent the fact in different language, his religious 
character was partially unsubstantial, because resting 
upon pillars here and there of special qualities, and not 
upon his whole nature as a basis. Part must come 
down, and before it could be rebuilt, the foundation 
must be made uniform — marshes reclaimed — sand re- 
moved down to the solid stone. 

But it must also be remembered that the develop- 
ment was going on under the care of religion. Re- 
ligion demands the whole of a man ; she will leave no 



COLLEGE HISTORY. 109 

native capability to slumber for ever in the germ, nor, 
on the other hand, suffer it to grow untrained. In 
Kingman she had already, out of his noblest traits — 
sanctifying them — woven a firm fabric of holy character ; 
but she would interweave with it now, as intrinsic com- 
ponents, other capabilities, to render the web both 
more complete and more beautiful, and that in the 
figure, when perfected, might appear the genuine hue 
and form of every quality in the soul. Development 
and transformation, then, comprise the process. Re- 
ligion restores a man to the image of the perfect 
archetype. 

In New York, therefore, K. was not more holy 
than in Rochester, or in Sumeld. A greater part of 
him was holy. Additional capabilities had been called 
into exercise, had passed through their period of wild 
and erratic development, and now, chastened, sanctified, 
and wrought into harmony with all other traits, they 
made up, together, a combination of superior symme- 
try and completeness. Nature had become, in more of 
its parts, developed, transformed, and consolidated into 
holy character. More M thoughts " had been M brought 
into captivity to the obedience of Christ." 

How essential were all his qualities to what he ulti- 
mately was ! Without that elasticity of spirit that 
made vain the buffets of care, that cheerfulness uncon- 
querable by the worst discouragements, that versatile 
sympathy with men which gave him the key to hearts, 

10 



110 COLLEGE HISTORY. 

what could he, in the peculiar work destined him, have 
done ? Yet these traits are so allied to* gaiety and a 
humorous disposition, that they can scarcely exist with- 
out — not that gaiety in itself is not a good ; only 
extravagance is to be rebuked. 

It ought to be remarked, finally, that K. maintained 
throughout his college course, the strictest rules of 
morality, without any deviation. He never weakly 
yielded even to doubtful indulgences. At the close, he 
had nothing to regret, except occasional slight indiscre- 
tions resulting from the sometimes too free effervescence 
of high animal spirits. 

The lesson of his college course, is threefold ; that 
sincere rectitude of aim ensures the final conquest and 
subjection of opposing wrong tendencies ; that the time 
for religious usefulness, is now ; and, that religious use- 
fulness now is the best pledge of, and preparation for, 
high usefulness in the future. 

The sketch that has now been given, will be filled up, 
according to the plan hitherto pursued, chiefly with 
letters, with such narration as seems needful. 



CHAPTER X. 

The First Year — Williamson. 

Nott arrived in Rochester, it has been stated, about 
the 1st of September, 1851. His first impressions are 
thus communicated : 

" University of Rochester, Sept. 6, 1851. 
" My Dear Parents : 

"Examined — tried — -condemned — to four years' im- 
prisonment within these brick walls ! I feel contented, 
yes, happy :" convinced that I am in the path of plea- 
sure and of duty. I do not regret my choice of college, 
nor do I think I ever shall. Last evening, I called a 
few moments on the pastor of the First Baptist church, 
and then attended the Monthly Covenant meeting. 

" I am greeted with a warm Christian cordiality, 
which makes my heart glad. Persons, whom I have 
never spoken to, take me by the hand and give me a 
hearty welcome. 

" I feel that my privileges and blessings are very great, 
and my opportunities for growing in both intellectual 
and religious culture most excellent. My prayer to 
God is, to grant me grace for a faithful improvement, etc. 

* Yours," etc. 

"September 18. 
" I feel thankful that I have been directed here, Of the 



112 THE FIRST TEAR WILLIAMSON. 

whole number of students in the Theological Seminary 
and University, more than one hundred have the minis- 
try in view. By contact with so many young men of 
talent and piety, in private life, in the prayer-circle, etc., 
I have been humbled. 

" I never was led before to look upon myself as so in- 
significant, upon my religious exercises as so cold and 
formal, — in fact, to feel so much my inferiority as a 
Christian. I find a higher standard of piety, which I am 
far below, and am now aiming to attain. There is great 
opportunity both for getting and for doing good here. 
Let me give you the occupations of last Sabbath. Prayer- 
meeting at 9 a.m. in the University ; the usual church ser- 
vice in the forenoon ; Sabbath -school in the afternoon, 
followed by a teachers' meeting; church in the evening. 

" My Sabbath-school is an absorbing interest. It is 
held in a school-house two miles distant — at the lower 
Falls of the Genesee. We gather into the room a con- 
siderable assembly of both young and old ; one of the 
students usually preaches familiarly, and after other 
good religious exercises, we have a Sunday-school in the 
usual maimer. By such labors, I am refreshed and 
strengthened. Thus I do not lack for exercise on the 
Sabbath — walking six miles. 

" I have taken my stand boldly as a professor of re- 
ligion, and candidate for the ministry, and feel that I 
have thus incurred no little responsibility. I hope and 
pray that the Lord will spare me from dishonoring my 
master. There seems to be a strong desire on the part 
of a few students that God will favor this institution 
w T ith an endowment of His Holy Spirit, and thus mani- 
fest His approval of the undertaking." 



THE FIRST YEAR — WILLIAMSON. 113 

He thus alludes to Lis first attempt to preach, proba- 
bly in the Mission school : 

" On Sunday I did what I never attempted before. 
I felt almost ready to sink, but there was no alterna- 
tive ; the Lord sustained me very graciously. Our 
field is peculiarly excellent, the audience containing a 
large proportion of children — thus demanding the 
study of simplicity" 

From this time he appears to have preached fre- 
quently in this unofficial manner. 

In the winter of this year, oppressed with pecuniary 
wants, he left college for a few T months, and eno*ao*ed in 
teaching. The school w^as in the town of Williamson, 
Wayne Co., New York, about fifty miles from Roches- 
ter. The history of his connexion with this school 
illustrates in a singular manner the force of his allegi- 
ance to religious principle and the sensitiveness of his 
conscience. 

At first he writes : — " My situation is one of uncom- 
mon responsibility. I have to fill the place of an infidel 
w 7 ho has taught here two winters, and left an indelible 
stamp upon the community. The people are full of 
4 notions.' I shall do the best I can, leaning on the 
Almighty for support." So his first thought was of his 
religious obligations, involving here, as everywhere, 
some u uncommon responsibility." 

The history proceeds : — 
10* 



114 THE FIRST YEAR — WILLIAMSON. 

" Williamson, Dec. 8, 1852. 
" Dear Father : 

" Here I am this pleasant evening, tired and dull, 

under the hospitable roof of Mr. B . All around 

me are engaged in the absorbing occupation of paring 
and coring apples by the bushel. 1 have come here to- 
night for the first time, and am to spend a week 

" Teaching is harder laboi than I have been accus- 
tomed to, but I hope it will do me good I have 

opened my school with prayer, a thing which has never 
before been known in the district ! Of course it seems 
very strange to many, and some, I suppose, hate it ; yet 
I have met with no public opposition. 

. ..." I am surprised to find how little practical 
knowledge I have had of real life, and especially how 
poorly prepared I am to meet the attacks of the ene- 
mies of religion. Yet 1 am brought to realize more 
deeply the privilege of being a Christian. Oh, how I 
thank God that He has not left me to wander through 
the mazes and labyrinths of unbelief, trusting to no 
guide but unassisted reason. The sentiments of bold 
infidelity fall strangely and grate harshly upon my 
unpractised ear I am of course under the neces- 
sity of being very careful as to what I say. On local 
questions, sectarian or unimportant, I maintain compa- 
rative indifference ; but when I am called out by a 
challenge from the skeptic to defend the principles of 
my religion, I try to respond, prompt and unyielding. 
Pray for me, that I may be able to take to myself the 
whole armor of God." 

"January, 1852. 

" I exceedingly regret that I did not, while opportu- 



THE FIRST YEAR— WILLIAMSON. 115 

nity was afforded me, become acquainted more fully 
with trie various objections commonly urged against 
our religion, and prepare myself to oppose the deadly 
errors which now meet me. Deists, Universalists, An- 
dre w- Jackson-Da visit es, Parkerites, etc., abound. .... 
Yet my school is one of a thousand, and my various 
homes uncommonly pleasant. Thus far I have found 
imagined difficulties vanish awav like smoke, both in 
the school and with the people of my district. I think 
I have succeeded in gaining the affections of my 

scholars 

"The boys in the entry (it is recess) are making 
themselves exceedingly merry over an old hand-bill : 
having succeeded in metamorphosing the words 'Yankee 
Notions' into ' Yankee Not /' " 

Enough has been quoted to show that K. emphati- 
cally " stood up for his religion" in this place of strange 
heresies, and was chiefly a noticeable object in the dis- 
trict, in fact, from his bold attempt to carry religious 
principle into practical life. Few young men, coming 
from a warm religious atmosphere, could have sustained 
so abrupt a change of temperature without growing 
torpid under the chill. 

Are we prepared, then, to anticipate a letter of 
exactly the character of that which follows ? 

""Williamson, March 6, 1852. 
" Dear Parents : 

" My heart is so occupied by conflicting emotions, 
that I hardly know what language to employ in writing. 



116 THE FIRST YEAR — WILLIAMSON. 

" I have sad news to communicate. Still, perhaps it 
is not news, for you have doubtless already grieved over 
the same thing, having inferred it from the tone and 
spirit of my few hurried letters home. If so, you will 
not be shocked when I confess to you, that my life this 
winter has but poorly accorded with the professions 
I have made here and elsewhere. True, I have out- 
wardly in many respects performed the duties of a 
Christian. 

" I have constantly attended church, and usually the 
prayer-meetings, and have taken an active part in these. 
But closet religion and secret prayer have been too far 
neglected, and of course the killing consequences have 
ensued. My heart has been amazingly cold ; lightness 
and frivolity, my besetting sins, as you know, have had 
the mastery, and my heart has seemed steeled to the 
emotions of true piety. I look back with mingled sur- 
prise and deep regret. 

" But the past is past. I trust it is repented of ;— 
nay, more, I trust it is forgiven. Still the question, 
What have I been doing? seems to come again and 
again with force enough to break my heart. Last night 
I conversed with a young man, with whom I had formed 
a very pleasant acquaintance : I confessed to him my 
feeling, and entreated his forgiveness for my levity, etc. 
Shall I tell you the reply ? His heart seemed to break 
and flow forth. He confessed that he had sometimes 
been constrained almost to think that, if what I acted 
was the religion I professed, he didn't want it ! This 
I know will pierce your heart, but oh ! not so deeply as 
it already has mine. I never till that moment realized 
the guilt of carelessness. He forgave me fully, attribute 



THE FIRST YEAR — WILLIAMSON. 117 

ing all to the natural buoyancy of my disposition. That 
night bore to Heaven the joyful tidings of a repentant 
sinner, and my friend rejoices in the hope of sins for- 
given. 

" pray much for me, that the work of grace may be 
deepened in my soul. that I may have grace enough 
in my heart to overcome those dangerous elements of 
character which make my besetting gins. Shall I ever 
be a constant, consistent Christian ? 

" My heart is not alone in this work of repentance. 
There is a mighty work commenced here. The waters 
have been troubled for more than a week. . . . Chris- 
tians are coming forth, a strong and numerous body. 
Last evening twenty manifested their anxiety for salva- 
tion, and begged the prayers of God's children 

"0 mother, I wish you had been able this winter to 
write me such letters as in time past, urging so strongly 
the deep guilt of inconsistency. Why, O why is it, 
that my religion is not a constant religion ? What 
security have I myself, or can I give to others, that in 
a few months I shall not relapse into the same apathy 
and worldliness ? And a minister ! — a minister at least 
in anticipation. How this aggravates my guilt ! Shall 
I ever be fitted to occupy that awfully responsible sta- 
tion ? Yet it has pleased God to hear prayer. 

I w^sh I could feel as thankful as I ought. A number 
of my dear scholars have been feeling deeply. Last 
night I was permitted to bow in prayer with two of 
them. We plead for mercy, and God, I trust, had 
mercy upon them. They are young men of sixteen 
and eighteen. Another found peace the same day, so 
that three of my scholars have entered the school of 



118 THE FIRST YEAR — WILLIAMSON. 

Christ. Shall I not praise him ? I cannot as I ought. 
I cannot be happy. My past inconsistencies seem to 
stare me in the face, and charge me with dreadful guilt. 

My soul goes out after one and another, and 

longs to see them born of God. I have talked with 
some of the men in my district: my mouth seems 
filled with arguments and persuasions, and my heart 
burns to reason the matter, and to beseech men, in 
Christ's stead, to be reconciled to God. In a few days, 
you know, I shall enter on my nineteenth year. Is it 
not time to work more publicly for God? I have 
longed for the time when it shall be prudent. 

" Your affectionate son," etc. 

The next is from Rochester. 

• " University of Rochester, April 8. 

" I closed school on Tuesday, 23d ult., the day after 
I completed my eighteenth year — closed it successfully 
and triumphantly, without the slightest mark of dis- 
satisfaction or ill-will, but on the contrary, with mani- 
fest signs of regret on the part of my pupils and their 
friends. 

"Williamson will always remain holy, consecrated 
ground to me. It was a hard and tearful separation, 
for I had some dear young friends bound to me by the 
closest ties of true Christian sympathy. I have been 
made glad by the*conversion of some for whom I had 
agonized in prayer. Yet I rejoiced with trembling. I 
trembled for them, and I trembled for myself, lest on 
either side we should ever prove false to our religious 
vows" — 



THE FIRST YEAK — WILLIAMSON. 119 

The question may suggest itself with interest to the 
reader, to what extent was there real foundation for 
these laments and repentings ? What degree of guilt 
actually, in the opinion of competent observers, attached 
to this vehement self-accuser ? 

Answer : None at all, as men commonly reckon their 
sins. So reply candid persons of whom inquiry has 
been made. He was free from any other faults than 
those arising from an extravagant gaiety. 

Shall we say, then, that in this instance his grief 
was excessive ? Not as God reckons sin. 

The remainder of the year had no incidents of im- 
portance. A few extracts from letters will serve to dot 
the passing months : 

u April 11. 
u My tendency to levity has done much to injure 
myself and others. I am trying to govern, in this 
respect and in others, my ' unruly member.' I wish I 
could have it said of me, for instance, as I have known 
it to be of some, ' he was never known to speak evil of 
another.'' How much to be admired is that pure spirit 
of charity which ' thinketh no evil/ I think there is 
no one characteristic of the Christian more peculiar, 
and striking, and desirable. Pray for me, that I may 
not idly wish for these Christian graces, but strive for 
them by self-denial and earnest prayer." 

The hungering and thirsting for this grace — of charity 
— was certainly satisfied in his case to a rare degree. 



120 THE FIRST YEAR — WILLIAMSON. 

"He never spoke evil of others," has been the free 
testimony of a multitude of individuals respecting him. 
He that seeketh, findeth. 

"Same Date. 

" Our students, on parting, agreed to consecrate each 
twilight hour during the short vacation, now in pro- 
gress, wherever they might be, to offer up at least a 
silent petition in behalf of the University — its meetings 
— its unconverted students. If this pledge be faithfully 
fulfilled, who can doubt that we shall receive a refresh- 
ing from the Lord ? The little prayer-circle of our 
class, also, agreed each one to make some particular 
class-mate the subject of special prayer during the 
vacation. 

" How little do we suspect how much God may be 
pleased to perform by us, when we are only willing to 
be His instruments." 

"June 28, 1852. 
" Dear Father : 

" I was fairly rejoiced by the receipt, and still more 
by the perusal of your last. Nothing can be dearer t£ 
rne than the will of my earthly, save that of my 
Heavenly Father. I very often think of my dear 
mother's words to me, in anticipation of her departure 
and my bereavement : ' Why, K., how rich you are ! a 
father on earth and a Father in Heaven ! ' 

"I have been arranging for the coming long vacation. 
Not having money to spend in visiting, and knowing 
you would not wish me to be idle, I have offered my- 
self, with the advice of friends, to the American Sunday 



THE FIRST YEAR — WILLIAMSON 121 

School Union, as a Sunday School Missionary, and have 
been accepted, although my field has not yet been 
assigned me. 

u Yours," etc. 

We quote from the last letter of the college year : 

" Rochester, July 6, 1852. 
u Dear Father : 

u The business of the University is suspended ; the 
bado;e of mourning; is decreed ; stillness and gloom are 
upon us. My own heart is sad, for death has been 
among us. For the first time he has entered our Uni- 
versity ; yes, and my own class; the name next to mine 
is struck from the list — George J. Newell. He died 
very unexpectedly. He was talented, pious, much be- 
loved, promising much usefulness in the church ; de- 
signing to enter the ministry. His loss is severely felt 
by us, and will be a terrible stroke to his parents and 
friends. They were in joyous anticipation, and may still 
be, if the telegram has not reached them, of seeing him 
at home next week. Poor fellow, he had talked much, 
of going home, and meant to leave next Monday. 

u Why was it not your son ? I think with tears how 
my parents would feel to receive the telegraphic news 
that their son was dead — would be buried to-morrow ! 
He was much stouter, stronger, and manlier than lam. 
I hope I, and we all, may take warning to work now, 

u My Sunday-school field has been assigned me, that 
is, if I wish to labor in it. It lies at the base of Mount 
Agamenticus, if any one knows where that is. ' It can- 
not be lucrative,' says the Secretary of the Union in his 
11 



122 THE FIRST YEAR WILLIAMSON. 

letter to me, ' a region of great darkness ! You must be 
able and willing to meet the rudest of our rough popu- 
lation, and labor amid scenes from which a missionary to 
Burmah might shrink ! ' 

"Well, I shall at least learn some useful lessons for 
the future, and obtain some partial insight into the real 
nature of the fight. 

" If I cannot earn money, I may do good, and doubt- 
less shall get good. Pray for me." 



CHAPTER XL 

AGAMENTICUS. 

The vacation accordingly was occupied with Sunday* 
school and Missionary labors in the region round about 
that mountain, known — among those who know it — as 
Agamenticus. How can any just idea be communi- 
cated to the reader of the strangeness of that region! 
A district belonging nominally to civilization, but left 
on one side fifty years ago by the course of " progress," 
and, worse than fossilized, relapsed into semi-barbarism. 
Agamenticus is the name of a mountain upon the coast 
of Maine, just within the line where that State joins 
the limb of New Hampshire that reaches down to the 
sea. The traveller eastward from Boston, by the 
" Lower Route," enters Maine, passes through flourish- 
ing villages, views the rich city of Portland, perhaps 
advances into the well-cultivated and charming country 
that extends far to the North and East, or to the romantic 
wildernesses about Moosehead or Schordie, and returns, 
totally unaware that on his very introduction to the State, 
he was borne along the edge of the wildest, most 
unique, and, to the curious, perhaps the most interest- 
ing portion of its territory. It is a district resembling 
Cape Cod in some of its peculiarities, but not yet seen- 



124 AGAMEXTICUS. 

larized by worldly cranberry growers and prying tour- 
ists. It is an old country, long settled. The farms, 
whose soil is substantial granite, were first tortured for 
their scanty products by, perhaps, the great-grand- 
fathers of the present occupants. The houses, of un- 
painted wood, and " many of logs or rough boards," 
are black with age. Forests of dark, stunted pines 
extend unbroken for miles, and cover the uninviting 
lands with a gloomy thatch. Roa*ds, which are only 
rocky lanes, climb the rough hills, and wind endlessly 
through mazes bewildering only through their mono- 
tony. It is Agamenticus, the stern mountain, that 
controls the character of the region. Civilization under 
his shadow dies. Even if " the age" had not swept by, 
and left the people on their sea-washed cape, isolated 
from the stir and movement of men, still they could 
not have resisted the frown of Agamenticus. Lifting 
his three-headed peak to no great height, he yet domi- 
neers inexorably over all he looks upon, and impresses 
his own rudeness upon fields, dwellings, and dwellers 
alike. The race that flourishes along the secluded por- 
tions of the New England sea-coast, is indeed every- 
where peculiar. 

Of the character of these particular inhabitants it is 
sufficient now to say, that while they have many rough 
virtues, yet irreligion, gross ignorance, and superstition 
sadly prevail. " There is little interest in common 
schools, still less in Sabbath schools," writes K. ; u while 



AGAMENTICUS. 125 

many oppose both.'' " They have living among them a 
set of 'preachers,' who are on a level with, or a little be- 
low the common people, who work their own farms, and 
go about preaching in the school-houses. Some of them 
are good men — some are not." " I find some Lots in 
the Sodom — reallv Q-ood men ; and once in a great while 
a whole-souled, warm-hearted, interested man." "This 
is a strange, dark region. The people know scarcely 
anything about religion, care less, and do nothing. For 
the most part, they are 'twice dead, plucked up by the 
roots.' They need a great power to raise them to 
the condition of an enlightened, Christian community.'' 
I find them hospitable enough." 

Here, amid " scenes that might have discouraged a 
missionary to Burmah," K. labored for several weeks 
with enterprise and good success. "I entered the 
field under additional discouragements," he writes, 
H from the fact that the persons on whom I first de- 
pended for support, direction, and encouragement, 
advised me not to go, and presented some very plausi- 
ble arguments. For a time I was sorely tried, and was 
on the point of surrendering the plan. Thus I was 
foolishly detained for some days. I then mustered all 
the grace and courage possible, reproached myself for 
my folly, and determined to go at once where the Am. 
S. S. Union had sent me with their eyes open, do what 
I could, and thus relieve myself from responsibility. I 
am glad enough that I took this independent course. 
11* 



126 AGAMENTTCUS. 

I doubt not, the Lord helping me, I can accomplish 
some good here. My confidence in God is firm — my 
heart sometimes light and sometimes heavy — my hopes 
great." 

"Last Sunday I talked four times. Some of the 
people became quite stirred up, and asked me to come 
again and lecture ; and some even followed me a mile 
or two to the next school-house (though they had 
already come as great a distance), to hear again, though 
I told them I could give no new story. ' Well,' said they, 
* let's hear the old one again — don't want no better.' " 

Aug. 17th he thus writes : — 

" It is two weeks to-day since I came to this region* 
and notwithstanding the fears of some at the outset, I 
cannot help thinking that good has been accomplished. 
I have set on foot two Sunday-schools, each furnished 
with a $10 library, and disposed of $10 worth of books 
by private sale. I have given six addresses, besides 
attending several other meetings, have travelled ninety- 
two miles, visited hosts of families, etc., etc. I have 
succeeded to some degree in awakening an interest in 
the S. S., and I pray Go£ that His good Spirit may 
nourish and bless the word sown, that it may bear 
fruit to the praise of His name. 

"I hope by His grace to accomplish as much the 
fortnight ensuing, and by that time I shall be glad 
enough to return home. Yet I cannot leave this region 
without sadness and anxiety. I shall have time to 
touch only one corner of it. I cannot go on the sea- 
board side of the hill (York, Wells, Ogunquit, Cape 
Neddock, etc.), as I wished." 



AGAMENTICUS. 127 

" South Berwick, Aug. 21st, 1S52. 
" My Dear Father, 

" Did any of you glance at Agamenticus, yesterday ? 
I then found out satisfactorily to myself, the location of 
this notorious place ; for I climbed its rocky summit. 
The view is very extensive and varied : land, river, and 
sea; hill, valley, and mountains; fields, villages, and 
towns, are spread out in fine array. 

"Agamenticus Woods, Witch-Trot, Tatnick, etc. etc. 
form a rough rocky country, indeed. The ' roads' are 
almost covered with rocks, often as big as a half-bushel, 
with now and then a huge ledge extending quite across 
from side to side. Sometimes in coming suddenly upon 
a * road,' I have mistaken it for the stony bed of a moun- 
tain stream. Then, they are so full of twists and turns, 
that I scarce ever know where I am. Once, in attempt- 
ing to go to a house three or four miles distant, I 
tramped no less than sixteen or seventeen miles. 

"Though somewhat tired yesterday, after accom- 
plishing Agamenticus, I came down to Bro. E ? s, in 

South Berwick, as he had earnestly requested me to 
be present at his Inquiry meeting in the evening. It 
was a precious season. Nineteen presented themselves 
to inquire, ' What must I do to be saved,' or to rejoice 
in their newly found Saviour. 

" I feel, and have felt, that I am getting good this 
vacation ; and I would fain hope, also, doing good. My 
mind is more than usually exercised on the importance 
of Christian activity, particularly in the sphere of the 
ministry. How much grace I need ! The subject pre- 
sents itself to me in almost a new light. 

"Your kind letter was received an hour or two after 



128 AGAMENTICUS. 

I mailed mine. It has been a great comfort to me, and 
given me new strength. 

" I wish I could get another to-day, as I may not see 
a post-office again in some time. Thank mother for 
her little note. Much love to all." 

"Your affectionate sod, 

"A. K. N." 

A FEW EXTRACTS FROM A JOURNAL, KEPT DURING THIS 
TOUR. 

"August 5th. 
44 Walked several miles. Found one woman who had 
not attended meeting, or read a word in the Bible for 

years. I offered to read her a chapter read the 

fifth of Matthew. Soon the old lady dropped her work, 
then her eyes began to redden, then the spectacles came 
off, and the tears dropped. Tried to persuade her to 
attend church," etc. 

" Sunday, Aug. 5ih. 
44 Awoke this morning, feeling that I had a great 
work before me, and one for which I was in every way 
poorly prepared. Was enabled to depend on a higher 
power to aid me, and found much satisfaction in so doing. 
At 'Emery's Bridge' found a very pleasant S. S. under 
the superintendence of a young man of true piety and 
intelligence. He, with the assistance of only one or 
two others, organized the school. Spoke in several 
places. In the evening, went to the L — school -house : 
after reading and prayer, I felt just in the right mood 
for speaking ; and knowing that if I accomplished any- 
thing among this people, it must be by hard labor, 
I strove to make some impression, and was not alto- 



AGAMENTICUS. 129 

getlier unsuccessful. Before I got through, was hoarse 
and tired." 

"August 11. 
"Am spending this week in scouring the L dis- 
trict. Families mostly poor and ignorant. Found one 
grog-hole — gave them a little Temperance — got twenty- 
five cents from a rum-seller for a S. S. in his neighbor- 
hood. If Satan be divided against himself, how shall 
his kino'dom stand ?" 

These labors were a providential test of Kingman's 
endurance. He stood the trial — gained experience and 
blessing. This was the beginning of an active interest 
he ever afterward maintained in Sabbath Schools. 

From a letter written to him afterwards by Mr. Hoyt, 
agent of the Am. S# S. Union, the following extract is 
taken : 

"Boston, S&ptember IS, \%f>2. 
«'My dear Bro. 

" On my return from Troy to-day I found your letter, 

You have labored in heathen soil for a 

month, and have succeeded far beyond my expectation. 
Nurtured by prayers of faith, I trust the seed thus 
scattered may yield fruit to the glory of Emmanuel. 
The missionary work thus done, though often of a 
cross-bearing nature, may perhaps be of some little 
service to the missionary himself. It is good for a 
man to bear the yoke in his youth, and if perchance it 
gall the pride of the flesh, still the fact itself is worth 
not a little to him whose life's work it shall be to 
preach the cross to others. 

"Yours truly, 

" H. Hoyt." 



CHAPTER XII. 
Second Year. 

The first week in September finds our missionary 
again a student, and glad to be once more in Rochester, 
where, however, he declares, " the world seems only 
half alive, extravagant reports having been circulated 
respecting the cholera, in consequence of which not 
more than half the students have returned," 

Pecuniary troubles are harassing him again, the 
slender proceeds of the summer's toil having been 
immediately melted away by the expenses that met 
him on his return. He is even less willing to starve 
now than when in Suffield. U I could," he says, "if 
my nature would let me, become one of those pinching, 
scri vening, close, calculating, hard-fisted men, who stint 
themselves to absolute necessities, and make it a prin- 
ciple to beat down on everything they buy. I don't 
mean to disparage true economy, but I hate the ' hag- 
gling' way of some, who borrow books or go without; 
and besides establishing an unenviable reputation for 
meanness, reap not half the benefits of a college course, 
Well, I must hope for the best, and without doubt the 
best will come. I am, in one sense, independent ; I 



SECOND YEAR. 131 

need not starve, for I have youth, and health, and mind, 
and part of an education." 

Again : 

" I am just convalescent, after an attack of despon- 
dency, the most severe it was ever my lot to experience. 
It affected my physical, mental, spiritual, and every 
other organization. To be, or not to be ! — that is the 
question. To mope along, always in debt, and poorer 
than poverty, unhappy, and disheartened ; or to go only 
half through college — spending the best portion of each 
academic year in teaching; or to leave entirely, and 
return only when I have earned money enough to ensure 
a full and thorough course of education — these are 
questions which it is difficult to leave with Providence, 
and which I have foolishly and fruitlessly endeavored 
to decide for myself." 

At last he writes : 

" I confess I have borrowed much unnecessary trouble. 

I have at last given up the thought of teaching 

I have concluded that my duty is to stay, and I ask no 
more." 

He adds : " I have much to reproach myself with ; 
my ingratitude, unbelief, and neglect, are heavy bur- 
dens. I cannot be what I would — I would not be what 
I fear I might ! May God have mercy upon me ! . . . . 
I am surprised to see how little religion there is in the 
world. Are there few that be saved ? Shall I be ? 
If not, how great my condemnation ! I sometimes 



132 SECOND TEAR. 

doubt whether I am advancing at all, intellectually or 
spiritually." .... 

But so seldom is it that he gives way to gloom, that 
this dark mood moves our smiles, from its strange con- 
trast with his natural temper, even more than it excites 
our sympathies for the despondency more deeply pene- 
trating, because unusual. Hopefulness is decidedly his 
characteristic, and his buoyancy of heart floats him 
easily over all shallows and reefs. 

Respecting his pecuniary support in college, it is 
sufficient to say, that, taking all things into considera- 
tion — the cheerfulness that made difficulties slight, and 
his need of some discipline to faith — he passed through 
college easily : perplexed enough to keep him con- 
sciously dependent on Providence, and compelled to 
exert himself in earning money sufficiently to teach 
him the value of money, and educate self-reliance. His 
uncle, Mr. Kingman, assisted him most kindly and 
generously, and, at some late period in his course, he 
became a beneficiary of the Education Society. Aid 
came occasionally in other ways, too ; often in some 
great exigency, and from wholly unexpected quarters. 
" It was a matter of remark in college," says one who 
was then a student, " how invariably Nott's wants, 
whenever they became urgent, were supplied — often 
from sources least anticipated. He used to say, l I 
need this or that — I shall surely get it — it will come in 
some way ;' and come it always would." 



SECOND YEAR. 133 



EXTRACTS FROM LETTERS. 

" At our ' Lower Falls ' Sunday-school sta- 
tion, the burden is suddenly thrown upon my own 
shoulders. My associates have all left but one, thinking 
their labors unappreciated, and unblessed. That one 
will not preach. For my part I could not resist con- 
victions of duty to persevere. I thought that if we 
were willing to labor in encouragements, we certainly 
should be so in discouragements, since there was then 
so much more need of labor. Such difficulties affect 
me differently from many. They drive me to more 
zealous exertion. For the last two Sabbaths I have 
tried to preach there, and intend to follow it up. I 
believe the Spirit has influenced me to take this course, 
has aided me, yes, and blessed me. Several are already 
pricked in the heart, and manifest deep feeling. My 
effort has been to present the plainest subjects in the 
most direct way. ... pray for me that I may be en- 
dued with power from on high, and by a godly walk 
and conversation be an instrument of good." 

" how good — how good to have such early tokens 
of God's peculiar favor to me in my contemplated call- 
ing. It has done me good every way. I feel aroused, 
have something to labor for, something to pray for." 

"December 8, 1852. 

" It is all over — our dear H. M. has breathed his last, 

and been consigned to the ever open grave. His race 

was not without glory, but was quickly ended, and we 

mourn the loss of a second classmate. I loved him as 

a brother A few months since he was converted 

12 



134 SECOXD TEAK. 

and baptized His sickness was short and violent, 

and sudden in its termination. . . . Never, since darling 
Franky's death, have I shed so many tears, or thought 
myself so sorely wounded. Such events make me 
weary of living — I wish to die. Indeed, I have some- 
tunes thought, before this, that my career might be 
brief. If I should die before you, mother, know that 
death cannot come unexpectedly to me. Often have I 
in imagination gone through the closing scene, and 
when called upon to do so in reality, it will be no new 
thino- to me. How strange it is that we live ! I used 
to think thus when Frankv and Howard died, and often 
prayed with the impression that it would be my last 
prayer, and went to sleep thinking I never should 
awake ; and when in the morning I was aroused in full 
health, I wondered and almost lamented. But life is 
earnest and active," etc. 

— " Last Saturday E. and I went on a mission 



to c our parish.' We visited the families, etc. The 
effect was apparent next day in a larger school and 
audience. There is still much interest. They will 
have a church before long ; then, if living, we intend to 
go somewhere else to rear a foundation on which other 
men may build. What immense responsibilities I have 
assumed ! Why here I am, pretending to preach the 
gospel, visit families, and pour words of consolation 
into the ear of the afflicted. I am almost frightened 
sometimes to think of it, for I so poorly and super- 
ficially discharge these duties that I fear I abuse the 
trust and the office. My intentions are good, and yet 
mixed with so much that is impure !" 



CHAPTER XIII. 
Second Year Continued — Albion. 

In March and April of this year, there occurred a 
remarkable episode in his history, the events of which 
exercised both an immediate and a permanent influence 
upon his habits and character. 

In the town of Albion, a beautiful village lying forty 
miles west of Rochester, on the railroad to Niagara 
Falls, lived at this time the Rev. Silas Ilsley, pastor of 
the Baptist church in A., who, from a former acquaint- 
ance with the father, Rev. H. G. Nott, now invited 
the friendship of his son, the young student at 
Rochester. 

The following letter will now be understood :— 

"Albion, March 4, 1853. 
"My Dear Father: 

" Your first thought at seeing my date may be, that 
I am ' rusticating, ' in the technical sense of the word ; 
but not so bad as that, though perhaps I have so tried 
my tutor by my 'boyishness,' as long ago to have 
deserved it. 

" I am with Mr. Ilsley, spending a w T eek or two 'for 
reasons I will speedily unfold. . . . 

" Last Friday I received a note from Mrs. I., stating 



136 SECOND YEAE CONTINUED — ALBION. 

that they have a large society of ladies in their church, 
who l wished the privilege of furnishing me with aid 
in the article of clothing, during my course.' .... I 
resolved to visit Mrs. I. on Saturday, intending to 
return Monday morning. . . . On Sunday Mr. I. 
would have nothing but that I must preach — the 
church wanted to hear me — and in the evening I tried 
to do so, from that solemn text, John v. 28. There 
had been for some days an unusual interest, and I had 
a full and solemn house. This was, you know, my first 
sermon in a pulpit, and I did not by any means satisfy 
myself, though I trust good was done. 

" Mr. I. had arranged to hold meetings every after- 
noon and evening of the present week. A minister 
whom he had expected, was detained from coming, and 
as God was pouring out His Spirit, there seemed to me 
to be a call to stay. ... I returned to Rochester, and 
made arrangements for a week's absence. Tuesday 
night I preached on the Cost of Salvation, as a motive 
for securing it. The church was nearly full of young 
people, and much feeling prevailed. Next day came 
the news of a ball to be held on Thursday night, a 
great temptation to the young who were serious. I 
tried to preach from Deut. iii. 18. I felt deeply, and 
God gave me unwonted strength. The house was 
filled, and we had a time of solemnity and power." 

"March II. 

" I have not found a moment's time to eomolete mv 
letter. . . . You will want to know what I am doing 
with myself, and what the Lord is doing with me and 
with this people. 



SECOND YEAR CONTINUED ALBION. 137 

" Thursday I spoke on A Time to Mourn, . . . Sa- 
turday was the regular covenant meeting. The large 
vestry was crowded full, and we had a blessed season. 
The next day was indeed ; the Lord's.' Five were 
baptized. I have spoken every evening this week 
except Monday. The church pray mightily for me, and 
the Lord accordingly blesses wonderfully. The house 
is thronged every night — even the aisles. My own 
soul is abundantly blessed. I have given two sermons 
to youth, from ' Show thyself a man] and, ' Save 
yourselves from this untoward generation, 1 Last night 
I took up the excuses of the un awakened, from Lord, 

I will follow Thee, but . To night, the excuses of 

the awakened ; to-morrow night, the excuses for delay- 
ing. 

" The Lord of Hosts is with us. You may think I 
am 'off on a tangent,' and unwisely, but I couldn't 
help it. I think it has done me permanent good, and I 
will return to college as soon as I can, much better 
fitted, I trust, to improve its privileges. . . . 

" You will fear that I am becoming intoxicated ; pray 
that I may not ; but I never saw myself so little, or 
cared so little for externals, etc. 

• " The Lord is reviving His work in all this region. 
for a like blessing with you. 

"Pray much for 'the stripling' — 'David and his sling' 
are in great requisitions in the good people's prayers. 
" Your affectionate Son," etc. 

The result was, that Kingman was persuaded to stay, 
with occasional flights to Rochester, for a period of 
seven weeks, preaching, with few exceptions, every even- 

12* 



138 SECOND YEAR CONTINUED ALBION. 

ing. Part of the time was vacation ; for the rest, leave 
of absence was procured from the Faculty, through the 
representations of brethren at A. 

How large the draft upon the resources of a youth of 
hardly nineteen, may be understood by those who have 
made, or witnessed similar experiments. That he was 
sustained at all, is only explained by the fact of his 
remarkable mental activity, and rapidity of working, 
and by the earnestness of his heart, which forced his 
intellect along in an equal race. This, from himself, is 
to be added : 

" I have been surprised at the elasticity of my mind. 
Deep feeling and solemnity have immediately brought 
on their reaction of lightness, against which I have been 
obliged to guard, but without which I could not have 
kept up with such ease as I have." 

We quote other brief extracts of interest. 

"Albion, March 22 (his birthday). 

" I hardly know how to characterize the emotions of a 
youth just entering his twentieth year! Though I in- 
dulged in a hearty laugh at the first thought of the 
22nd of March, yet I cannot say I feel particularly glad. 
I am beginning to be frightened, lest I should lose boy- 
ish prerogatives, to which I would cling for many a 
year yet. 

" I feel surprised at myself — not at the extent of my 
capabilities! or the progress I have made! but at the 



SECOND TEAR CONTINUED— ALBION. 139 

way in which the Lord hath led me, and the goodness 
which crowns my days. 

" The interest still continues here, with new cases of 
convictions and conversion each day. . . . Mr. I. has 
been full of the impression that God sent me here, and 
that I had a mission to perform, and could not go until 
it was accomplished. 

. u This may be so ; but I feel now that every day I 
remain, and every sermon I preach, is injuring me in 
many ways. Next Monday I shall fly back to Roches- 
ter — dig into my books, and prepare for examination." . . 

Speaking of certain temporary and slight annoyances, 
he says : 

" I assure you I have not been slow to wish myself 
fifty years old ! However, I congratulate myself that 
the faultfinders have been very rare, and obliged to 
strain at a gnat. 

" As for my manner of life, I have had none, so far as 
the public knew ; I have visited nowhere. As for my 
preaching, I was not at all molested. I regarded it 
only as complimentary that some should say I ' drew 
on my father's barrel' (strange idea they must have of 
my father !) ; or that, as I got rather excited in dis- 
coursing on i And thou, Capernaum,' etc. etc., I should 
so move the indignation of some, who thought them- 
selves at least ' almost Christians,' that they made loud 
complaint about their harsh usage, etc. 

u But, oh ! how have I wept tears of joy, as I have 
listened to the voices of one after another, who have. 



140 SECOND YEAR CONTINUED — ALBION. 

spoken of this sermon, or that, as having awakened 
them, or set their anxious souls at rest ! 

" The church have given me the heartiest co-opera- 
tion. It would do you good to hear them pray for 
your son, ' Good God ! he's but a stripling ! but Thou 
hast done great things by a stripling,' etc. Borne up 
by such prayers, one can hardly help preaching. 

" On Sunday the right hand of fellowship was given 
to sixty individuals. You may judge of the impression 
made on my mind by such a scene, especially when I 
could not but know that God had made me instrumen- 
tal in the salvation of many of these. I shall never for- 
get that scene. It opened a new life to me. I learned 
to realize, as never before, the grand object of my minis- 
try and my life. I see how I should make everything 
subservient to this — laboring with zeal and watching 
with care if by any means I may save some. 

"By the way, speaking of feelings, I am a strange 
creature. You know I have always been able to raise 
tears at a rather slight emotion — I have not during all 

my preaching shed one! I could not I 

have sometimes been wrought up to a high pitch of 
nervous excitement — sometimes have felt tenderly, and 
just ready to gush out in tears — but never a tear in 
preaching. All my emotion has a very different effect 
upon me when I stand up to speak. It seems to throw 
itself all into my speaking. I have sometimes thought 
that I had not much feeling ; but I have wept in pre- 
paring sermons, and by myself." . . . 

"4pn7-26. 
u I do not know what to think of myself sometimes. 



SECOND YEAR COXTIXUED — ALBIOX. 141 

I do not know what God has meant by carrying me 
through the scenes just transpired. In one moment I 
am frightened at myself, thinking I never could do the 
like again, and condemn my foolhardiness. But I 
was gradually and unsuspectingly drawn into the work, 
and I am constrained to think it was of God and none 
else. The results prove the same, and I tremblingly 
praise the name of the Lord. 

" About ninety have been baptized at Albion. You 
fear ' a sad reaction.' But there is no unusual cause 
for fear. The work has been almost a silent one. 
Very rarely has a meeting been continued beyond nine 
o'clock. No extravagances — no flights of transport — 
but the young, many after a long conflict indeed, giving 
themselves away to Christ. It may be that public pro- 
fessions have been made in some instances too early — 
this is about the only cause I have to fear. 

u I preached my last sermon on Sabbath evening : 
'He that saith he abideth in him, ought himself also 
so to walk as he walked.' — Physician heal thyself! — 
Every available spot was occupied, even to the entries. 

" I have wished amidst all that I might gain a spi- 
ritual blessing to my own soul ; that my principles 
might become more settled, and I become rooted and 
grounded in the faith. Rochester University is not 
the most fruitful soil for the Christian graces to grow in 
— it is too rich" 

Mr. Ilsley sends the following notes : — 

"When I first invited him to preach, he 

promptly refused, and urged many reasons for that 



142 SECOND YEAR CONTINUED ALBION. 

decision. But I plead my extraordinary labors, etc., 

and at last prevailed His first sermon was 

decidedly a success. The conviction was immediately 
impressed on many minds, that God had a work for 

him to do with us 

" From his youthfulness (he was but eighteen) the 
curiosity of the whole community was aroused, and the 
sanctuary was always crowded. Some declared it im- 
possible that his sermons could be original . . . but all 
were finally compelled to admit that his ability to preach 
and pray were from God. . . . His preaching from the 
first was brilliant, but then less pointed and doctrinal 
than it soon became. In preparing for the pulpit he 
had little to do with books. Prayer and the study of 
the Bible were his chief reliance." .... 

Mrs. Ilsley also sends the following most interesting 
communication : 

" The remembrance of that revival," she writes, " and 
of Kingman's labors, has ever been delightful. In a 
letter received from him just before the acceptance of 
his call to New York, he says, ' I shall ever look back 
to that time with the same interest as to the hour of 
my conversion, and as stamping my character as a mi- 
nister of Christ.' He learned at that time, that it 
was the presentation of the simple truths of the Gospel, 
with strong faith and prayer, that drew down those in- 
fluences of the Spirit that resulted in the salvation of 
souls. This explains his great success ; for often did 
he say to me, 'if the church keep on praying for me as 
they do now, I shall never tire in preaching, and I 



SECOND YEAR CONTINUED ALBION. 143 

shall always expect glorious results.' And he said that 
many times while preaching he would have more 
thoughts, and ivords to express them, than he had time 
to utter during the hour allotted to preaching. Some 
of the sermons he preached at that time have been 
remarked upon often for the strength of argument and 
reasoning in them which, indeed, sometimes seemed 
more than human, and which would have been consi- 
dered great from an old divine, but coming from a youth 
of eighteen, astonished the wise and learned among us. 
His youth attracted crowds to hear him, and many 
went away spiritually blessed. One hundred and 
twenty-five were added to the church as the fruit of 
that revival, of whom many ascribed their first religious 
impressions to words that fell from his lips, and will be 
stars in the crown of his rejoicing through all eternity 
During that time he preached almost every evening, and 
attended the afternoon prayer-meeting, and enjoyed 
uninterrupted good health. The forenoon of every day 
was devoted to preparation for the evening work. He 
never took anything written with him into the pulpit 
but twice, and then a small card contained all. He 
rode horseback every morning, which exercise he en- 
joyed much. He was abstemious in diet, and took no 
other drink than cold water. He loved the Albion 
church and they loved him much, and contributed 
much to his personal comfort." 

It may well be questioned whether this episodical 
proceeding was judicious and justifiable. Was it wise 
and safe, and a proper thing, for a young man in course 



144 SECOND YEAR CONTINUED — ALBION". 

of education, to absent himself from college, and, with 
untried powers, plunge head foremost into the work of 
an evangelist, and for six weeks give himself to public 
exhortation and preaching ? Is a similar course to be 
recommended to other young men? Are students to be 
encouraged to seize the earliest opportunity of rushing 
before the public, and to seek in the pulpit, as well as 
the recitation-room, their school of preparation ? 

Decidedly not; the experiment in this case was 
doubtless hazardous. Only " success vindicated the 
attempt ;" but disaster was imminent. The greater 
number of the so-called "boy-preachers," prematurely 
fledged, stoop quickly from their first ambitious and 
sun-aiming flight, and, exhausted and thenceforth 
stunted, remain ever afterwards waddlers on the earth 
instead of soaring eagles. In this instance, the hand of 
God was manifested, as was proved alone by the results. 

There is every reason to believe that the following 
testimony is true. It is what Kingman writes after his 
return to Rochester : 

" If the query had been soberly raised beforehand 
as to the propriety of my leaving college and going off 
to preach six weeks in a revival, I should have looked 
upon it not only as a dangerous experiment, but almost 
as an absurdity. I was led in a way that I knew not. 
And I do not think I have been injured. The large 
drafts that have been made upon my capital have 
showed me how poor my resources really are, and made 



SECOND YEAR CONTINUED ALBION. 145 

me feel the necessity of laying a deep and broad foun- 
dation if I would build largely." 

He adds : — Prof. called me to his house and 

had a ^iendly talk with me a few days since. He 
seemed fearful that I might run away, or take up with 
a partial course. I assured him that I had only been 
led to see more than ever the necessity for a thorough 
education ; and that, so far from limiting mine, I would 
prefer rather to extend it beyond the ordinary bounds. 
He did not know — what he was very glad to discoVer 
— that I had a good and wise father to counsel me. 

" I have done preaching for the present, except at my 
mission post." 

There can be no doubt that this experience at Albion 
was of the greatest utility, in quickening his emotions, 
deepening his piety, and, as Mr. Ilsley has most truth- 
fully remarked, teaching him the most effective mode of 
preaching. He formed his style in Albion. 

This was, then, his third great lesson, in College : 
Williamson inculcated deeper conscientiousness ; Aga- 
menticus called out endurance ; Albion taught the art 
of preaching. 

One or two extracts close the records for this 
year. 

The following letter to a convert of the Albion revi- 
val, Harding Ilsley, a son of the clergyman, gives a 
good example of the tenderness and tact with which 
Kingman drew to himself, and led always to the Saviour, 
the hearts of the young. The lad was only eleven years 

13 



146 SECOND YEAR CONTINUED — ALBION. 

of age when baptized. The letter was written two or 
three years later : 

" My Dear Harding : 

" I am glad to hear that you still love to pray, and 
are still trying to live like a Christian. No doubt you 
sometimes find this hard ; and so must every one, a 
man as well as a boy. I hope you still remain firm, 
and full of love to Jesus. I hope you are gentle, 
patient, obedient — always just as you think Christ would 
be if he were in your place. That is the way to live, 
the only way to be happy. Thus you can show to 
others the beauty of religion, and win them to Christ. 

" I am afraid you get cold sometimes, and feel tired 
of praying, and do not see the use of it, and even almost 
wish you were not a Christian. Is it not so ? Older 
Christians than you sometimes feel so, but such thoughts 
are very ungrateful and wicked. The devil puts them 
into our hearts, and if we let them stay there they will 

drive away all our religion There is only one 

way in which you can get rid of such feelings. You 
must go right to Jesus, just as you went the first time, 
when you felt you were a sinner, and tell Him all about 
it, and beg Him to have mercy upon you. 

" Don't be afraid of your playmates. You profess to 
be a Christian, and they will think all the more of you 
for acting like one. Remember you are like a soldier, 
who has enlisted. You must fight for the Lord, and 
never desert, for you have enlisted for life. 

" Your friend," &c. 



SECOND YEAB CONTINUED — ALBION. 147 



TO HIS FRIEND BROWN. 

" I have thought, Theron, how aimless, and 

hence how useless would be our lives, were it not for 
the glorious gospel of our Lord Jesus Christ. I bless 
God that He has given me something worth living for ; 
and particularly that He has been pleased by the foolish- 
ness of my preaching to save some. Why, just think 
of such a weak vagabond as myself being made the 
means of saving an immortal soul ! Sometimes when 
I think of it, I am lost in wonder, love, and praise. Oh, 
what exalted, pure delight! I know of no satisfaction 
that will compare with that arising from the conscious- 
ness that God has blessed and honored me thus." . . . 

At the end of the summer term of this year, K. 
hastened to his father's, expecting to obtain a school 
for two or three months in the neighborhood of K-port. 
This plan was unsuccessful, and, unable to occupy the 
vacation with recreation and visiting, he immediately 
turned his face towards Rochester again, and the fine 
villages surrounding ; resolved, if still compelled to be 
an alien from home, that he would cling at least to the 
skirts of his adopted city. After some negotiation, he 
engaged to teach the Union School in Pittsford, JV. Y. y 
six miles from Rochester, for three months. 

This introduces us to the third year. 



CHAPTER XIV. 

Third Year — New York — Pittsford, etc. 

In the course of the journey back to Rochester and 
Pittsford, Kingman made his first visit, of any account, 
to the city of New York. In company with a college 
friend from Brooklyn he gave three days to the explora- 
tion of the great metropolis, wandering where the whim 
led him, delighted with the novelties that met his eyes, 
and far from suspecting that these sights were soon to 
become as ordinary to him as the view of the bare rocks 
in the pastures about Kennebunkport. In the streets 
that he walked, the very stones were soon to become 
familiar with his frequent tread ; and many of the 
houses that he passed carelessly by, were inhabited by 
those who were destined to be among his dearest friends. 
Perhaps he brushed by strangers, whom, under the con- 
trolling providence of God, he was to influence for ever. 

Of what vast import are our lives, at every instant of 
their passing ! How intimate and eternal may be the 
relations which bind us secretly to objects and persons 
that we are looking upon with the most unthinking 
indifference. 

Remaining in New York one Sabbath, he was in pos- 
session of an " opportunity which he had long wished 



THIKD YEAE. 149 

for, of hearing some of the distinguished preachers of 
the city." He sallied out, therefore, " with anticipations 
of a rich treat." His comments on the three sermons 
to which he listened, in different churches, are interest- 
ing as specimens of his criticism at that age. It is evi- 
dent that he had a distinct standard of some sort, both 
of style and of orthodoxy. 

"In the forenoon," he says, u I listened to the great 
Dr. . A long introduction, general and hack- 
neyed, consumed half the time ; the rest was filled up 
by common-place, loosely-jointed remarks, with con- 
siderable cant and many lazy attempts at eloquence. 
He made himself entirely at home, easy and careless. 
I should judge it was not one of his great efforts. In 
fact, one of the people informed me that the Dr. was 
not quite himself that morning, as he had the dyspepsia." 

Kingman would have judged more leniently a few 
years later; though he continued always liable to be 
warped from true candor, by his unwarrantable deficiency 
of sympathy with dyspeptics. 

" In the afternoon," he continues, " I mustered cou- 
rage to go to the Street Church, where I heard 

Dr. M . This was a sound, close, forcible sermon, 

and pleased me much. The Dr. is called eccentric ; he 
is peculiar, but certainly very earnest, simple, and often 
striking. His text was ' Whom we preach ;* (1) All 
Christ; (2) To all ; (3) In all places." 

" In the evening I went to , and heard a very 

13* 



150 THIRD YEAE, 

young sermon from a very young man, which dis- 
pleased me exceedingly. I did not learn his name ; of 
course it was not the pastor. The professed object of 
the discourse was to demonstrate the doctrine that 
infants are saved. Now I fully believe the fact, but not 
his exposition of its ground. The preacher demanded 
the salvation of the infant, not on account of Christ's 
atonement, but from the sinless purity of the being. 
Besides, as to imputation, he had never been able to 
ascertain with any preciseness what that meant, i His 
opportunities of conversation had not been limited, yet 
he had never discovered any one who seemed to know 
what was meant by * imputed.' Ah ! thought I, if I 
could take you to some poor sinner who glories in the 
cross of Christ and that alone ; whose cry is 

" ' Vile and full of sin i" am, 

Thou art full of truth and grace ;' 

he could tell you what is meant by the ' imputed' right- 
eousness of Christ, if not the imputed sin of Adam." 

In Pittsford, Kingman gave himself with due devoted- 
ness to his temporary calling. He succeeded with the 
school, and by his sociability and manifest interest in 
people, gained many warm friends in the village. He 
treated his scholars with great familiarity, as he could 
hardly avoid doing, with his ready sympathy for young 
hearts. They knew him to be their friend, and indeed 
half suspected him of a disposition to fraternize with 
them even in those frolics that were most untimely. 



THIRD YEAR. 151 

Yet lie had a fund of resoluteness and an interest in 
their progress that sufficed to preserve his dignity and 
the discipline of the school. 

He contracted special friendships with a few, chiefly 

the smallest " Little Mary B " he writes, " is my 

constant companion. Before and at the close of school, 
at rest and at recess, she is always by my side," etc. 

Here is an incident of school-life that gives him 

occasion for moralizing : — 

" September 13. 

" Here I am imprisoned in my school-room this 
pleasant afternoon, although it is past four o'clock, and 
the school has been dismissed. Besides me there are- 
three others : one boy sweeping, another studying a 
neglected lesson, and the third waiting to be punished 
for the crime, oft-repeated, of truancy. . . . N.B. ! The 
boy who was waiting to be punished has just taken 
flight out of the back-door into the street ! . . . . Well, 
if the fellow is so insanely forgetful of the inevitable 
final consequences of his audacity, why let him go ! — 
Alas I such is poor human nature — thoughtful only of 
the present moment, regardless of the future ! A little 
present pain must be avoided, though at the expense 
of vastly more hereafter, How do men deceive them- 
selves in trying to persuade their restless fears that all 
will be well — the avenging rod will not overtake them — 
some unseen way will be opened for their escape. 
What delusion ! " 

After the commencement of the college term he 
maintained a close connexion with Rochester — visiting 



152 THIRD YEAR. 

the city at least once a week, generally on foot one 
way, performing his regular parts in the literary society, 
and keeping well along with his class in their studies. 

The opportunities for religious labor were less abun- 
dant than in some of his places of sojourn ; but he im- 
proved such as were offered. 

" I have engaged in the Sabbath-school," he says, 
" assisting the superintendent, etc. ; and I am going 
next Sabbath to take charge of a school three miles 
distant, held before morning service. It is at a place 
called Bushnell's Basin, where there are five or six 
hundred inhabitants and a good meeting-house, but no 
preaching. I have promised to preach there at five 
o'clock," etc. 

He adds : — " I certainly enjoy more spiritual religion 
than I have at almost any other place or time. I take 
more delight in private communion with God through 
His word and by prayer than for a long time before. 
Sometimes I almost taste i the blessedness I knew when 
first I saw the Lord.' .... I have made a vow : it is, 
that I will endeavor by the grace of God to be the 
means of converting at least one soul during my stay in 
Pittsford. The place needs, as much as Kennebunkport, 

a powerful work of grace I strive to be watchful. 

I would not willingly be guilty of inconsistency, or 
hide my light." 

" Last Sabbath," he writes again, " I preached at 
Bushnell's Basin. There is a sad waste there. There 
are no Christians at all in the village, so far as I can 
learn. There are a great many young persons, and an 



THIRD YEAR. 153 

interesting Sabbath-school. This is sustained almost 
entirely by a family living at some distance, who are 
all active, benevolent, devoted, whole-souled Christians. 
It would do you good to see them come to church. 
Not content with his three-seated wagon, the man rigs 
up his hay cart with carpeted seats, and brings a load 
of twenty-five people. They call this honored vehicle 
* The Baptist Church,' .... I had good attention, 
and promised to come again next Sabbath. Theyare 
surely sheep (or rather goats, I fear) without a shep- 
herd, and if I can do a little good there I shall be glad 
indeed. They must have the word of life ; and if no 
one else will give it them, and God grants me power 
and opportunity, I dare not withhold it." 

He mentions an interesting excursion to Albion : — - 

" Oct. 1. 
.... " After closing my school for the week, I 
could not resist the temptation to make a hurried trip 
to Albion, to see the brethren 4 how they did.' It was a 
good and genuine work which God wrought there. 
Their meetings are continued with great interest, even 
the young converts' meeting being still sustained. 
Returning Saturday evening I met on the cars a young 
man whose face I recollected, though I did not know 
his name. He recognised me, and we immediately 
engaged in conversation. His heart was full of the 
great theme, and as he told me what he had been, and 
now was, my own heart overflowed with gratitude to 

God As he closed his history he added : ' If it 

had not been for you, I might now be what I then 



154 THIRD YEAR. 

was ! ' liow I bless God for that moment ! one of 
the happiest in my life ! Let me live to preach that 
glorious gospel which can work such wonders ! Thank 
God for the privilege. What a wonder that He should 
entrust this treasure to earthen vessels." .... 

To his friend Brown he writes from Pittsford : 

"Now I suppose you have reached the goal, or rather 
one of the way-marks. You are an inmate of Yale- 
Let me be the first to shower down upon you from the 
full cup of friendship congratulations and the best wishes 
for your — success, shall I say? — your preservation suits 
me better. May Heaven preserve you from following 
the course of so many who enter college as pious stu- 
dents ! God forbid that the evil influences that fill the 
atmosphere of Yale, should eat out your piety ! How 
different a place it will be from Suffield." . . . 

The following letter to his eldest sister on the occa- 
sion of her marriage, belongs here : 

"Joy, joy to thee, dear C, Heaven's choicest bless- 
ings rest on you and yours ! 

" God knows how I love you, and how I ought to 
love you. No being, next to my dear parents, has had 
so much to do with moulding my mind and character* 
and forming my principles. When our dear mother died ; 
I was left a wayward boy — most needing a mother's 
fostering care. What cruel, w T icked deceptions I then 
practised upon my father ! How many were the bad 
habits I gathered from bad companions, and how T strong 



THIRD YEAR. 155 

the influences to keep me from God and bring me 
under the sway of the evil one. 

"Do you know what it was that kept me from many 
a sin, and made more moral and religious impressions 
upon my mind than any other cause — impressions 
which were never effaced ? It was those letters, full 
of sisterly love and concern, that perseveringly fol- 
lowed one another till God was pleased to bless them. 
.... Would that I could repay the debt ! But you 

labored for no earthly reward ; and if we are ever so 
happy as to meet in Heaven as ransomed souls, surely 
you will ask no other joy. ..... More than one hint 

of yours has been the means of implanting in my mind 
a settled principle. For instance, do you remember 
coming into mv room once when I was writing a lettei 
— a religious letter, on the Sabbath ? . . . . 

"We talked the matter over, and the result was that 
I put away the unfinished sheet. That was one result : 
another is this — that I have never since, in a single 
instance, written a letter of any kind upon that sacred 
day. 

" 0, when I sit down to think, as I have been forced 
to do for a few days, of you and your love ; how the 
past rushes upon my mind, and such scenes as I have 
just described make me weep for sorrow and for joy. 
I remember when you fell into father's arms, with the , 
exclamation, that you had found peace in Jesus ; and 
from that time I remember nothing but devotion to the 

cause you then espoused I remember all of the 

several greetings and partings which have marked the 
past few years, and in all bless God from my heart of 
hearts that He ever gave me such a sister. . . . 



156 THIRD YEAR. 

" Farewell — God bless you ! I know that amid all 
the festivities, poor, humble absent / am not forgotten. 
— God orders all things right for us. — A brother's love 
to C. : may a Saviour's accompany it. 

"Your loving, deeply loving, 

" Kingman." 

Returning to the University, about the first of Nov., 
he expresses the usual hopes and longings. 

" I am much gratified to find a better state of reli- 
gious feeling among the students. The prayer-meetings 
are well attended, and conducted with uncommon 
heartiness. There is some desire for a revival. O that 
we might be willing and fit to receive it ! — I want to 
strive for more consistency and devotion." . . . 

The last letter of '53 has the regretfulness that must 
commonly belong to reflections upon any considerable 
past period of our lives. 

"Dec. 26, 1853. 
" Dear Mother : 

.... "The term has ended, and in some respects 
it has been an unsatisfactory one. I have studied 
more severely than sometimes — yet not enough ; and I 
fear that in religious feeling I have lost. The. quiet of 
Pittsford was good for me. When I returned, I soon 
became so much engrossed in secular duties that I 
allowed my religious fervor partially to decay. How 
soon will love for prayer and pleasure in reading the 
Scriptures decline, w r hen not regularly and frequently 



THIRD YEAR. 157 

indulged ! I sometimes tremble as I look forward to 
the world which I am so soon to enter, and think how 
poorly— very poorly I am preparing to accomplish any 
good in it. — The last week of another year is fast 
speeding away, and I am — I scarcely know what. By 
God's help I will strive to accomplish more." . . . 

Such regrets, accompanied by longings and striv- 
ings, are among the surest indications of progress in 
grace : for there must be the pulling down of the old, 
in order to the upbuilding of the new. In another 
figure, hungering and thirsting are the conditions of 
our being satisfied ; but we cannot hunger and thirst 
by willing it, but only from the sense of real inanition. 
We languish, we die, then we pant for the living God, 
and live. The depths of our natures deepen as their 
cravings are filled — and so we hunger again. 

An extract of a similar nature with the preceding 

follows : 

" Jan. 26. 

" I feel bound to record my cause for gratitude to 
God, for the increased satisfaction I take in religion. 
Christ seems nearer to me, the Scriptures a blessed 
book, and prayer a sweet privilege. 

" I have been asking myself the question, to what 
extent may a Christian study, or allow of -conformity 
to the world ? To some degree conformity seems to 
be demanded, for the sake of maintaining influence 
over worldly people. But alas ! how much there is of 
accursed pride in my heart, prompting to too watchful 
an observance of the fashions and maxims of the world ! 

14 



158 THIPwD YEAR. 

Persons talk of the greatness of the sacrifices which a 
missionary makes, in abandoning home and country ; 
and I have endeavored to weigh them, and form some 
conception of them. But it seems to me that, with 
the mountain duty before me of leading a true Chris- 
tian life — a life such as Christ led — a life of entire 
subjection of pride and renouncement of what the 
world calls good — I might fly to heathen soil as a 
refuge. There it would be comparatively easy, among 
a strange people, and unshackled by the miserable 
conventionalisms of our society, and with the direct 
object of one's mission constantly forced upon him, to 
know none save Jesus Christ and Him crucified. Oh, 
I do not know but we have reason to cry out with 
Doddridge, as we read the commands of our Saviour, 
4 Blessed Jesus ! either these are not thy words, or we 
are not Christians !' " 

This concerning the college : 

"Jan. 31. 

" While there is an apparently good state of religion 
among us, yet I find — as I become more closely 
acquainted with the feelings of individuals — that there 
is much "to lament and to be alarmed at. There is impe- 
netrable indifference and painful trifling on the part of 
some — such trifling as only students know how to be 
guilty of. • Some professors of religion are very far 
away, and even losing the evidences of their conver- 
sion : and these serve as stumbling-blocks to others. 
Individual responsibility is merged in the general ; and 
the poor, irreligious young men are lost sight of, and 
left to perish in the very midst of their appointed 



THIED YEAE. 159 

guardians. Of the one hundred and seventy-one stu- 
dents catalogued as belonging to the Seminary and 
University, about one hundred and fifty are professors 
of religion. What a moral power we ought to exert !" 

" Trifling" of the character referred to — that is, 
levity in the treatment of religious subjects — that 
4 foolish jesting' which, beyond all other styles, is ' not 
convenient' — Kingman always regarded as a high 
crime, and never, through any inadvertence, even in 
his most frivolous moods, indulged. He felt that this, 
at least, would be to give the lie to his professions of 
belief in some things sacred, and of anxiety for the 
souls of sinners exposed to a real hell. 

On a similar topic : 

" Feb. 8. 

" There is to me something mysterious in the present 
condition of our churches — their habitual worldliness 
and occasional ' revivals.' It is exceedingly painful to 
reflect that so many persons are ' added to the church,' 
only to bring misery upon themselves and reproach 
upon the name and cause of Christ. I cease to wonder 
so much as formerly at your" [his father's] " strict con- 
servatism upon this point 

" But there are churches that are in earnest. The 
i Brick Church' of this city recently appointed a day 

of fasting and prayer All their business men — 

some of them our principal merchants — closed their 
stores, and flocked together till their room was filled to 
overflowing. An unconverted man, walking the street, 



160 THIRD YEAR. 

says, l Why, what are these stores closed for ? What 
does it mean V ' They're having a day of fasting and 
prayer.' ' Well, they seem to be in earnest about it. 
I guess they mean to do something? This, which was 
overheard in the streets, seems to me to indicate what 
tbe world want. Of course, God blessed that church. 
They now hold meetings every afternoon and evening, 
with much interest. 

" Three weeks from to-morrow," he adds, u comes 
the annual day of prayer for colleges. I hope the 
church at home will observe it, and offer prayer for 
this University, and especially for one of themselves 
who is here — six hundred miles from home and 
church — struggling with temptations strong and many. 
I believe that if all the churches that have representa- 
tives in this college, would unite with us in strong 
prayer on that day, we could not help receiving an 
overwhelming blessing." 

These earnest desires for a revival in the college were 

fully answered, though not now. The sequel will show. 

Here is more " regretting" and more " hunger- 

kg":- 

"April 17. 
" My Dear Father : 

" The short vacation is fast passing away, and I shall 
doubt whether to be glad or sorry to see the beginning 
of my last term in the junior year. I feel now just 
prepared to enter college, no more. . . . My thoughts 
are very busy of late; they often lead me in paths that 
I never before knew ! that my first conse- 
cration had been lasting ! How sad that I should ever 



THIRD YEAR. 161 

have allowed Satan to get near, and silently weave 
about me chains from which it is so difficult to become 
tree ! The Holy Spirit is in my heart. I am conscious 
of His influence. I feel His constraining power. He 
leads me as far as I will go, and invites me farther. It is 
not hard, comparatively, to break off known acts of sin ; 
nor do I think that pleasure, or ambition, or covetous- 
ness enslaves me. But, to have all subdued to the will 
of God, so that I shall do perfectly His will, as made 
known to me through the Spirit — it is high — I cannot 
attain unto it ! . . . What is required of me ? 
Clearly, to tell the tidings of salvation. . . . Then 
comes the practical question : What can I do now, while 
yet a student — this term — this vacation — to-day ? . . . 
Ah ! nothing else will suffice than an entire giving up 
of everything for Christ! This must come, or I shall 
never be a whole Christian. ... ' Are there few that 
be saved V 0, pray that my will may be swallowed 
up in the will of God !" 

This during the present year especially was the great 
burden of his desire — the attainment of conformity of 
his own will to God's. 

Thus he says : — 

" I possess now something of that pure enjoyment 
that springs from a consciousness of duty performed. 
How sweet it is ! May I have more of it ! Sometimes 
I think I am the very happiest man in the world. 
Of course -it is not always so. But the future causes me 
little anxiety. I think and plan about it less than for- 
14* 



162 THIRD YEAR. 

merly. Could I but attain a state in which I should 
have no plans, no will of my own, and pride and selfish- 
ness should be so subdued that God could use me easily 
as He pleased, then I should have reached, I think, 
the height of my ambition. But what a height !" 

There follows an agreeable example of his lighter 
manner of writing : 

"April 22. 

"Dear C : 

"Our delightful spring weather has been renewed 
with three-fold beauty. These mornings are glorious. 
When I wake up, I can with difficulty believe that I 
am in the midst of a populous city. The air is fresh 
and pure, the birds twitter and sing, and a thousand 
inspiring cock-a-doodle-doos fill the air with life and 
exulting praise. Of the latter sort of melody, there is 
every variety; from the chant of the old-fashioned, 
puritanic 'rooster,' to the shrill 'fantasia' of the 
'Premium Shanghai' or new-fangled 'Brahma Pootra' 
of yesterday's importation ; now some youthful adven- 
turer makes his hesitating debut ; and now ring out 
the clarion tones of an old hero, coming up like the 
shout of a victorious army, and filling you with sym- 
pathetic exultation. ... And then to walk out, as I 
often do, along secluded and shady streets, before city 
life has awaked, and note the hush and whisper* 
ino*s. 

o 

11 ' There's not a spring or leaf but has its morning hymn, 
Bach bush and oak doth know the great I Am. 7 " 



THIED YEAR. 163 

The long summer vacation was again at hand, in 
which money must again be earned. Although dis- 
appointed once, he still believed in the possibility of 
obtaining a school at home. Upon inquiry, he received 
encouragement that a remunerative class of private 
pupils might be gathered, and in order to give this 
plan a fair trial by attempting it early enough in the 
season, he left Eochester several weeks before the close 
of the term. 

He received a painful mortification just before his 
departure. He made the first and only failure of his 
life in a public address. The occasion was the public 
meeting of a Literary Society. His part was an ora- 
tion, and he had prepared himself w T ith more than 
ordinary care. The theme selected was thus entitled — - 
" Something more Wonderful than 'Progress ; ,w with 
a satirical reference to the common semi-philosophical 
cant among popular lecturers and others about " Pro- 
gress." The " something more wonderful" was : First, 
that so small a portion of the race has at any one 
time — or at any time, attained a great height. Second, 
that the backward step has so often been taken ; 
and third, that the highest attainments fall so far 
short of true ideals. It was handled with considera- 
ble originality, and much beauty of illustration. But 
when the oration came to be spoken, midway — when 
the attention of the audience was closely fixed — his 
memory inexcusably betrayed her trust to him, and 



164 THIRD YEAR. 

absolutely refused to deliver up from her archives 
another sentence or word of the important address. 
Nothing was left for him but to retire prematurely 
from the platform, carrying the sympathies instead of 
the applause of the spectators. Unused to failure, be 
felt the shame belonging to the consciousness of crime; 
and heartily did he rejoice that his arrangements had 
already been perfected for leaving the city that night. 
He bade farewell to few, but morning found him far 
out of the reach of the roar of ridicule that his ex- 
cited imagination conceived to be pursuing him. This 
incident impressed upon him permanently the value of 
thorough preparation for any performance. He never 
approximated to failure again, in any formal public 
address. But his mortification for a time was exces- 
sive. " Think of it !" he says in a letter, " stammer- 
ing, blushing, looking this way and that, and at last 
disgracefully retreating ! I can scarcely credit it now. 
I could not possibly have looked the faculty and stu- 
dents in the face next morning. But see what friends 
I have ! A faithful few will maintain that it was only 
a rhetorical artifice, slightly overdone 1" 

At home he speedily discovered that there was no- 
thing to do. To his notices that " school would be com- 
menced so and so," a truly select number of pupils 
responded. The maximum was attained when fourteen 
one morning darkened the door. The same day he 
dismissed the fourteen, and closed his doors finally. 



THIRD YEAE. 165 

" Here I am now, at safe anchorage in this c port,' " 
he says, " but wind-bound. I shall set sail with the first 
fair breeze, but whither is all uncertainty. I am carry- 
ing on my studies, that is, Greek and Geology, and am 
enjoying an excellent opportunity, if I would but im- 
prove it, of searching my heart and growing in grace. 
I have been reading some books ; Mrs. Mowatt's Auto- 
biography, Potiphar Papers, Humboldt's Cosmos, Dr. 
Judson's Life, etc., with occasional Milton and Young. 
That Life of Dr. J. has brought the tears to my eyes 
again and again. It gives new and loftier ideas of life 
and its responsibilities, and fires the soul with a holy 
ambition, when it exhibits how much one man can 
sutler and do for the glory of our dear Saviour." 

Eestless in his comparative inactivity, and feeling the 
importance of obtaining some remunerative employment, 
he finally made arrangements to serve the Sunday 
School Union a second time, but in a new field, the 
region, namely, of Lewiston Falls, Maine. 



CHAPTER XV. 

Second Mission Tour — Lewiston Falls. 

Lewiston Falls, or Lewiston, is a flourishing young 
manufacturing city in the heart of the western portion 
of the State of Maine. The country surrounding, 
though populous, was not at this time, it appears, what- 
ever it is now, above the need of religious culture ; as 
indeed what most Christianized district of our whole 
land is above such need ? 

This second S. S. expedition, if less adventurous and 
novel than the first, was even more laborious. The 
distances to be traversed were great, the heat excessive, 
and the people, at any time sufficiently indifferent, at 
that season were specially occupied with their farming 
operations. 

Kingman established his head-quarters at the house 
of Rev. George Knox, the respected pastor of the Bap- 
tist Church at Lewiston Falls. From this place his 

letters are dated. 

"L. Y.,July 8. 

u Here I am at last, in fine spirits and with good 

prospects, enjoying the hospitalities of Bro. Knox, to 

whom I already feel dearly attached. I feel already 

acquainted in the town, and most pleasantly too 

Last evening occurred the weekly prayer-meeting. How 



SECOND MISSION TOUB — LEYVISTON FALLS. 167 

fortunate that I came in time for it ! We were knit 
together in love, and our hearts burned within us as we 
talked of our Saviour and the glory to be revealed. 

" This morning I awoke after a sweet sleep, full of 
zeal for ray work. Here I am, Lord, send me ! Bro- 
ther Knox took me this morning to B , a Univer- 

salist neighborhood, and a considerable village. Until 
lately it was said, that here for two miles there was not 
a house where family prayer was offered! What a field 
for doing good ! I should like to live there a few 
months. My district is of vast extent, larger than I 
shall pass over in my allotted time. I am full of san- 
guine hope. I have a little zeal. I am quite happy 
and willing to work. May it be for the Lord !" 

Immediately he begins his journeyings, from hamlet 
to hamlet, and house to house, and soon finds discou- 
ragements enough. 

" The most disagreeable thing," he says, " is, that I 
am compelled to beg my daily food, no place to lay my 
head ; being constantly among strangers and uncertain 
whether I am welcome or not. It is a horrible life — as 
those who have not experienced anything of it cannot 
understand. But this dependence to which I am forced 
may certainly give exercise and growth to humility." 

" Wednesday, July 12. — I went through the 'Thorn 
District' and scoured it pretty thoroughly ; calling on 
twelve or fifteen families. I felt homesick among 
strangers, and longed for a cordial smile or friendly 
word. I found now and then a blessed old lady, whose 



168 SECOND MISSION TOUR — LEWISTON FALLS. 

pious talk cheered me, and made me thank God for this 
glorious religion. 

" I became quite encouraged respecting a Sabbath- 
school. I visited the day-school, and talked to the 
scholars. At recess I sat down on the ground, and 
gathering them around me, showed them my books, and 
urged them to come to Sabbath School. 

"Thursday I visited a district in Webster. Here are 
the remains of an old Baptist Church. It is nearly 
dead, alas! but has seen its days of prosperity and of 
glory. They sustain no meetings, and have had no 
preaching for a long time. I worked here, but found 
it very dismal. I do not see how it is possible to stir 
a stone. It is a hard, hard field." 

He is astonished to find the region " overrun with 
Universalism," and especially that " Baptist Churches 
have joined hand in hand with it." 

" I have already found three meeting houses owned 
in partnership by Baptists and Universalists. Of course, 
the houses are about all that is left of such Baptist 
Churches. They are dead — twice dead, plucked up by 
the roots. 

" This labor," he adds, " is not of a kind to satisfy 
me. It is not sufficiently direct. It is a round-about 
way to convert people. I would rather go right at 
them. I love the Sunday School, but love preaching 

best. ... I would like to live out here in W a year, 

as a missionary. There is only now and then a family 
in the whole town that pretends to go to meeting." 



SECOND MISSION TOUE — LEWISTOX FALLS. 169 

In a supplement to this letter, lie rebukes his own 
want of faith. 

u I take my pen to add a little. But before I add 
anything, I want to take back part of what I have 
already written. Pardon what I have said about my 
labors, inconveniences, and discouragements. I wrote 
it after a week of hard toil, and before 1 had waited to 
see the fruit ; and I must admit, with some feeling of 
rebelliousness. I am in a different mood now. Yester- 
day's (the Sabbath's) labors and blessings wrought a 
change. I wish vou could have followed me through 
the day, or that I had time to picture it. ... I travelled 

a circuit of twenty miles, taking Brother W with 

me ; attended one Sabbath School and taught a class ; 
heard two sermons ; held two meetings in school-houses ; 
attended a Sunday School concert, and, altogether, 
spoke five times to different congregations. I never had 
a better day ! I think some part of my discouragement 
last week was animal. I got so tired as to make me 
disheartened. I am willing now to labor right here, in 
this cause, and do all I can. Lord, what wilt thou have 
me to do, is now, I think, my sincere inquiry ; and may 
He forgive my unbelief and rebelliousness" 

August 14, he writes : 

"Lewiston has been a melancholy place for a week 
or two. Cholera has been raging fearfully, having 
already swept away twenty or thirty from this little 
town. Its ravages are chiefly confined among the Irish 
who are settled here in large numbers. But several 

15 



110 SECOND MISSION TOUR — LEWISTON FALLS. 

Americans have died. Yesterday the principal physi- 
cian of the place fell a victim. Many have perished 
from sheer neglect ; some all alone. Sickness was 
regarded as sure and speedy death, until Mr. Knox and 
some others organized a plan for taking the sick in 
charge, and discovered that many cases, viewed as 
desperate, were susceptible of cure by careful treatment. 
I have been exposed considerably, watching, etc. The 
suffering is painful to witness. Such work as this, added 
to my Sunday-school labors, has worn on me," etc. 

The following final resume of the summer's labors 

occurs : 

" Sept. 14. 
"I completed, altogether, seven weeks' services. 



I walked nearly three hundred miles; delivered thirty or 
forty addresses; established five new schools; sold Si 50 
worth of books, and earned nearly 860. I find, on look- 
ing back, that I enjoyed the vacation better than I had 
anticipated, and far more than I realized at the time. 
Lewiston has been a good home to me, and I shall 
always love its people. . . . Since closing my Sunday- 
school engagement, I have supplied Mr. Knox's pulpit 
two Sabbaths, and the Free St. Church in Portland the 
same number." 

From Mr. Souther (agent of S. S. U.) to A. K. Nott. 

"jFryebukg, Sept 15, '54. 
" Dear Christian Brother : 

" The very full and interesting report you were 

pleased to send me, of your Sunday-school missionary 

labors in our State, gives me great pleasure. 



SECOND MISSION TOUE — LEWISTON FALLS. 171 

u I trust the impulse communicated to the good cause 
will be lasting, and most beneficial in all that region. 

" And now, dear brother, allow me to hope that you 
will still and ever be a Sunday School missionary, and 
that you may, by your influence among the young 
brethren at Rochester, be able to stir many of them to 
engage in this blessed work. 

" May I not hope to meet you another season, and 
with you and others like-minded, ready to aid in build- 
ing up the waste places of our Zion in this noble East- 
ern State ? 

"Yours truly," etc. 

Mr. Knox writes, Oct, 28, 1854 : 

" Those Sabbath Schools in which you were con- 
cerned in this vicinity, have all been prosperous, are 
well attended, and doing good." 

Mr. Knox furnishes also this interesting account. 

"In the month of July, 1854, answering the bell- 
call, I found at my door a youth apparently about 
sixteen years of age. His dress was neat but simple, 
and adapted to the season of the year. • With a plea- 
sant smile, which is still visible in my memory, he in- 
troduced himself as Bro. Nott — Kingman Xott ; had 
been directed by Rev. Mr. S. to my house — had come 
to labor in this vicinity, in behalf of the American Sun- 
day School Union. Thus commenced one of the most 
pleasant acquaintanceships I ever formed. It was Friday. 
In the evening he attended our prayer-meeting, and 
participated in its exercises. 



172 SECOND MISSION TOUR — LEWISTON FALLS. 

" Such was the intelligence and manly character of 
his remarks, that I said to myself, the boy is abun- 
dantly able to preach. But his extremely youthful 
appearance, made me doubt the propriety of suggest- 
ing this idea to him. A little further intercourse, 
however, so confirmed my good opinion of his intel- 
ligence, piety, and modesty, that I could hesitate no 
longer. And when, to my question, i# he had ever 
preached, he modestly replied that " he had sometimes 
tried to talk a little in the pulpit, 1 ' I was fully pre- 
pared to say he must preach for me the next Sabbath 
morning. Without embarrassment, or hesitation, or 
apology, he modestly assented. He had not sought 
to preach — he did not decline the opportunity. 

" Sabbath morning came. He appeared in the pul- 
pit, and announced as his text, the words of David to 
Solomon, ' Show thyself a man.' 

" So deeply were we all interested, that we wished 
to hear words of wisdom again from those youthful 
lips. One venerable man ' could but think of the 
boy David with his shepherd's sling.' In the after- 
noon he preached again. My people remember that 
Sabbath as a day of special interest. He entered on 
his labors atfonce — organizing Sabbath Schools at im- 
portant points in the rural districts of this, and adjacent 
towns ; preaching frequently, and raising funds for Sun- 
day School libraries. He sometimes met with oppo- 
sition, and was assailed with coarse and abusive lan- 
guage. Some told him " He had better go home and 
go to school ;" some told him " he was an idler, and 
ought to go to work," and others cursed him and hi§ 
Sabbath Schools too'ether. * 



SECOND MISSION TOUR — LEWISTON FALLS. 173 

" But in every such instance, he disarmed these peo- 
ple of their prejudice, and won their good will and their 
co-operation. Men, who had never before favored a 
Sunday School, or contributed a cent for a library, and 
who when first approached were hostile, now became 
favorable, and gave such assistance as was needful to 
procure suitable books. In some of these rural districts, 
the few Christian people residing there were greatly 
surprised at the success attending his efforts. 

"It is not you," said one good woman, as tears of 
joy fell from her eyes, w it is not you, it is the Lord ; 
no other power could make these people willing."* And 
so it was the Lord, for the Lord was with our dear 
young brother. The work in which he was engaged, 
was work indeed ; but every morning found him ready 
for labor. In those hot days of July and August, when 
our roads were deep with dust, he usually walked ten 
or twelve, and sometimes twenty miles. While pursu- 
ing his work, he would usually be invited into the far- 
mers' houses to take his meals or to spend the night, and 
they always found him an agreeable guest. 

" But, sometimes noon overtook him among an inhos- 
pitable people. ; and after the protracted toils of the day, 
ho would return to my house in the dusk "of the even- 
ing, having taken no refreshment since early morning. 
No hardships, however, daunted his courage, or soured 
his disposition. He retained always the same manly, 
Christian heart, and the same earnest, cheerful zeal to 
be about his Master's work. 

" During his sojourn here, the cholera broke out in 
this town (Lewiston), and raged fatally among the 
Irish population. Some benevolent persons, convinced 

15* 



174 SECOND MISSION TOUR — LETVISTON FALLS. 

that the disease was so fatal among this people mainly 
from a want of proper nursing, especially by night, ar- 
ranged a committee of relief, to take care of the sick ; — ■ 
a sort of night-guard, to be relieved at regular intervals. 
The disease itself, the people, and their habitations, pre- 
sented no attractions. There was no romance in these 
nightly watchings. Your brother Kingman, learning 
of this arrangement, volunteered his assistance. Fre- 
quently after his long walks through the day, he took 
his position in the shanties of the Irish, and cheerfully 
performed whatever was in human power to do for the 
relief and comfort of the unfortunate sufferers. He also 
found opportunity to visit them in the daytime. 

" ' Who is this young man V said the chairman of our 
Board of Selectmen, to me one day. i He is very unob- 
trusive; but there is scarcely one of our own townsmen 
who manifests more interest, or labors more efficiently 
for these sufferers, than this young stranger.' It was a 
true testimony. Indeed, he was always finding oppor- 
tunities to do good, and availed himself of these oppor- 
tunities without hesitation. Whatever his hand found 
to do, he did it with his might. There was never any 
ostentatious display on his part, but whatever he took 
hold of you saw at once that he thought it worth attend- 
ing to, and should not be deferred till to-morrow. He 
spent eight or nine weeks in this vicinity that season, 
during which time he organized and superintended 
Sunday Schools in the towns of Lewiston, Auburn, and 
Webster ; — preaching, also, in all these towns with great 
acceptance, and, we trust, with lasting good results. 

"Geo. Knox/ 7 



CHAPTER XVI. 

Fourth Year — Letters. 

This year is barren of incident, but rich in the illus- 
trations of a growing religious experience. 
Thursday, Nov. 29th, he writes : 

" My thoughts have been directed heavenward of late 
in a special manner, by some sermons from Dr. Robinson. 
His discourse last Sabbath evening, on the i inheritance 
incorruptible and undefiled,' especially made a deep im- 
pression on my mind. The bare thought that I may 
soon be in Heaven, a few years more and all the glories 
of the upper world may be mine ! How it lifts one up ! 
how mean do all earthly things appear ! How good, 
too, do all the providences of God seem even though 
afflictive, when I remember that He lays upon me no 
more than is absolutely necessary to make Heaven se- 
cure ! What earthly blessings do I possess, that I would 
have God spare at the expense of my Heaven? What 
do I desire that I would purchase with my hope of 
heaven ? These thoughts have been with me this week, 
strengthening me to the resistance of temptation, and 
making me willing to run in obedience to the voice of 
the Spirit in my heart. These holy thoughts — how 
precious ! One of them can shed more rapture on the 
soul than all the world's attractions. Thanks for such 
messengers from Heaven ! " 



176 FOURTH YEAH LETTERS. 

He continues : — 

" Your heart, I presume, with mine, has been made 

glad by the good news from dear . What a 

boon ! how good, how faithful is the Lord our God ! 
' Of them that thou gavest me, not one is lost !' I feel 
that I have a new impetus in my Christian course. 
Holiness and Heaven ! Let these be my watchwords, 
and the goal of my wishes and my efforts. All else is 
vanity. 



down just at the threshold of usefulness and happiness, 
his flock shepherdless, his bride a widow — his account 
for ever sealed. I saw him last August all health and 
cheerfulness. Surely I must be weaned from earth ! " 



EXTRACTS. 

" There is so much work to be done, that the days, 
weeks, and months slip by while I am collecting my 
thoughts and intending. I see already work for a 
dozen lifetimes. Would that I might fill one pro- 
fitably ! This term half gone — college almost done — 
life done soon at the farthest — and nothing done ! " 

"I had a pleasant school yesterday at our Lower 
Falls Mission Station — which toas — but has now grown 
to the dignity of the ' North State St. Church.' 

"The new house is neat, pretty, and convenient. 

" I have an interesting Bible-class there, most of the 
members of which have become converted since our 



FOUETH YEAE— LETTEES. 177 

labors began. I do not know but the school could live 
without aid from the University, but I have become so 
much attached to the field that I cannot easily abandon 
it," 

" I do think there is not a mortal on earth more fa- 
vored than I ! God give me grace ! Do not pray, 
dear father, that I may have more blessings. I have 
already more than I dare account for. Pray that I may 
have a heart to improve God's gracious gifts," etc. 

" If there is anything which father's example and 
instruction have taught me, for which I am truly thank- 
ful, it is these two doctrines — the Holy Spirit and 
Providence? 

" S has the right of it. I believe if we are only 

willing to try, we can walk just as well by faith as by 

sight. There is a saying of Dr. R 's, which will 

always stick by me : 4 The man who walks by faith, 
feels that he is treading always on something solid as a 
pavement.' " 

The following letter was written to a friend who had 
just been recovered from a state of alarming religious 
declension : 

" University of R, Nov. 18. 
" My Dear — — : 

" I feel that the bond of union between us is 
stronger than ever. I confess — what you must have 
been conscious of— that although we have been drawing 
together for two or three years, as we became more 



178 FOURTH YEAR — LETTERS. 

intimately acquainted, yet there has been a certain 
indefinable something that has kept our hearts from 
flowing entirely into one. While my own inconsisten- 
cies of character have cut me off from exerting the 
influence I should, still I have felt that you were not 
what you knew you ought to be, and what I hoped you 
would be. Alas I we have not been of much aid to 
each other in cultivating religious feeling ! I say it for 
myself as much as for you 

" You say that you had been growing harder all the 
while, etc. I thought otherwise. I do not think this 

is an entirely new, fresh movement on your part 

I have been hoping for, longing for, and expecting this 
happy day. Though your letter made my heart swell 
with affection to you, and gratitude to our dear Lord, 
yet I was not startled nor surprised. I thought it must 
come. I knew you could not rest — that you must ere 
long take some decisive step ; and I could not believe 
that in spite of your dear parents' prayers, and all the 
holy influences affecting you, you could plunge into 
deeper sin, or take refuge in skepticism. God is gra- 
cious, and He will yet do greater things for us. Let 
us have faith to come boldly to the throne 

" I do not allow myself to plan much for the future ; 
but I have long thought, and especially of late, how 
happy you and I could be in studying theology to- 
gether. Oh, could we, side by side, enter the ranks, and 
fight and fall together ! If it is not hoping too much — 
if it is wise and best — I do pray that God may grant 

me this boon 

" Yours," etc. 



FOURTH YEAR — LETTERS. 179 

They came to be "in the ranks" together; but he 
fell first! 

TO R . 

" Nov. 1854. 
"How much we owe to our home influences, and 
especially to the faultless Christian example and instruc- 
tions of our revered father! I have felt of ]ate that I 
have never begun to appreciate his excellence, nor the 
gratitude due to him and to the God who gave him to 
us, and has so long spared him. Ah — has spared him ? 
and how much longer will this be ? I have tried of 
late to look forward to his death — for it must come 
sooner or later — and if possible familiarize myself with 
the terrible loss, that I may be strengthened to bear it, 
when it shall come. I believe we ought never to allow 
ourselves to be taken by surprise by any of the dispen- 
sations of Providence. — Yet it may be that I shall be 
summoned first. For that event, too, I would live in 
constant readiness." 

In the short holiday vacation this year he visited his 
brother, then teaching in a town fifty miles east of 
Rochester. One day, in the early part of this visit, his 
brother, returning from school about sundown, found 
him standing in a pensive attitude, and with the traces 
of tears upon his face, by a window which overlooked 

a large portion of the little town. " R, ," said he, 

turning to his brother, and pointing to the little huddle 
of houses in sight, " this is a small village : I have been 



180 FOURTH YEAR — LETTERS. 

thinking how easily we might go to every house and 
carry Christ. I do not know but I must ; will you ?" 

The next morning the impression of duty had deep- 
ened into a conviction. It was Saturday — there was a 
half holiday — and the two engaged to attempt in the 

afternoon a visitation of the whole village. E 

visited one house, drew a long breath, and went home. 
Kingman went through with the whole of his allotted 
portion, and talked faithfully with every man, woman, 
and child whose attention he could secure. It was no 
easy task ; it cost a struggle ; he was a stranger, and 
in appearance a mere lad, and his reception at some 
houses, while civil, was cool enough to show that the 
errand was thought an impertinence. This is a fair 
instance of the certainty with which persuasions of 
duty prevailed over selfish inclinations, in the regula- 
tion of his conduct. 

The entry made on this occasion in his little pocket 
memorandum book is significant : — 

"Dec. 29, 1854. 
..." The Spirit — do this ! — I tried to get rid of 
it, but couldn't. Made several calls, left tracts, and 
prayed. Talked with young C ." 

He preached, at this and a subsequent visit, several 
times in this village. One sermon, in which he was 
entirely carried beyond himself by the force of his emo- 
tions, was long remembered for its great power. It 



FOURTH YEAR LETTERS. 181 

was known as the "Jonah Sermon" — from Jonah i. 6 : 
" The World's Appeal to the Sleeping Church." 

LETTER WRITTEN AFTER HIS RETURN. 

"University of Rochester, Jan, 6, 1855. 
"DearB, : 



" I can never forget that visit. What a happy season 
it was ! I never loved you so dearly before, as then 
when onr hearts glowed with love of a common Saviour. 

a Well, we are of one heart and one mind, and have 
everything to spur us on. And we are assured that we 
shall come off conquerors and more than conquerors. 
Death itself shall yield at last, and lo, when this cor- 
ruptible — oh, how corruptible ! shall have put on incor- 
ruption, and this mortal, immortality, then shall be 
brought to pass the saying, etc. What a splendid pas- 
sage ! Let us live for Heaven ! Pray, pray, pray, and 
daily remember me. 

" I have been wishing I might pray without ceas\ ig. 
I think I at least begin to see what it means. Ho ^ 
good it is to feel that you love to pray ; where prayer is 
a delight, and you are unwilling to stop, and when you 
have stopped, you wish to pray again ; when your de- 
sires come flocking in too fast to find expression, and 
instead of straining to make out a prayer, you feel that 
you cannot begin to tell your praise or enumerate your 
wants ! etc., etc. 

" Yours," etc. 

At this time his desires for immediate usefulness be- 
came absorbing. 

16 



182 FOURTH YEAR LETTERS. 

" Everything seems to turn with me now," lie says, 
" to the point of personal labor with the unconverted." 
" Yet," he adds, " I do not obey without a struggle, I 
often hold long debates with conscience." 

He continues : 

u Pride and Christ are contending for the mastery 
in my soul. Yes, I am ashamed to say, I am too 
proud to do my duty. I am willing to toil, but afraid 
to be abased. Satan holds me with bands of iron. 
Last week I thought I had broken from them ; but 
though I did get one hand free, I find myself again a 
slave. Still, I have had a taste of liberty. I have 
found there is a stronger than the strong man armed. 
O that I had such a state of heart, as always to obey 
instantly the voice of the Spirit! As it is, I shuffle, 1 
argue, I plead to be excused, get almost angry, and when 
the point is pressed, rebel. It frightens me to think 
of it ! I see plainly that I must triumph over this, or 
give up my religion. O how happy, could I be always 
passive in my Father's hand ; if, rather, I always has- 
tened actively like a little child, to do His will. Souls 
would be converted, I am sure." 

A letter a few days later shows in how far he 

has triumphed. 

u February 4. 
" Dear E : 

" I have just called on two classmates, a duty I have 
had before me for some time. I had an interest- 
ing conversation with them, though not half so earnest 
and faithful as it should have been, One I have great 



FOURTH YEAR — LETTERS. 183 

hopes of. I have talked with him before, and always 
found him theoretically sound, free from cavil, and 
apparently interested. He is of a godly family, and 
you and I ought to have faith in the prayers of godly 
parents. ... I have talked with a few other students. 
B . . But this is all ! I am ashamed of my negligence, 
rather of my rebellion. Still God has not forsaken me, 
and I am firm in my purposes. / am resolved to con- 
verse this term upon personal religion with every un- 
converted student in college, if my life is spared. It 
is surely high time for me to awake out of sleep. But 
what is this ? There are only twenty or twenty-five 
irreligious students ; I ought to have talked with most 
of them a score of times already. The occasional, 
reluctant performance of a duty, to turn aside the goad- 
ings of conscience. how far is it from the consistent 
and constant labor of a Christian life ! Yet how good 
is a single duty — performed ! What satisfaction — 
what assurance it yields! Mf ye love me, keep my 
commandments.' ' Lord, I have obeyed Thee, and 
therefore I know that I love Thee. 1 "When I wish 
to nerve myself for any duty, I love to read that 
seventeenth chapter of John. There could be nothing 
more inspiriting. 

"Yours," etc. 

" February 24. 
" Dear L : 

"Just one week ago to-night was set apart for the 
delightful task of answering your excellent letter, and 
just one week ago to-night there came upon your un- 
fortunate brother that mingled cold and fever, sickness 



184 FOURTH YEAR — LETTERS. 

and stupidity, which has blotted out just one week of 
his whole existence. By the way, have you had the 
family ' influenza V I am curious to know ; for if not, 
you are an alien, and alone destitute of the genuine 
family sympathy which characterizes our stock. I 
took the sickness filially, forthwith upon the reception 

of a letter from mother. R the same ; and it 

remains to be known whether or not you are awake to 
the true nature of your filial and sisterly obligations. 
. . . We had a good day upon the occasion of our 
annual Fast for Colleges. An excellent sermon, and a 
large and animated social meeting. ... I have been 
endeavoring this term to make my religion more con- 
stant and all pervading. Daily study of the Scriptures 
and daily secret prayer have been especially precious 
to me. I have taken more pains than ever before to 
remember my friends in prayer. At the twilight houi 
I love to go over, one by one, the names of those I am 
especially bound to remember, and invoke for them im- 
mediate blessings. I have been surprised to find how 
each day brings with it some new claimant for my 
petitions. 

" O L -, consecration to God is the all-essential 

thing. We may despair of satisfying ourselves with 
learning, but we may thirst for righteousness and be 
filled. Let us strive to help each other, etc. 

"Yours," etc. 

"February 28. 

" I have not enjoyed so much as usual of spiritual 
zeal and comfort for a week or two, plainly traceable to 



FOURTH YEAR — LETTERS. 185 

neglect of duty, and consequent grieving of the Holy 
Spirit. It surprises me to find how dependent I am, 
physically and spiritually, on perfect regularity, A 
single departure from the routine often sets the whole 
machinery out of gear," etc. 



16* 



CHAPTER XVII. 

Fourth Year — Ideas of Preaching, 

"March 7th, 1855. 
" Dear Father : 

" I have been listening to (X). Most of his 

sentiments, I think, are noble, but he ridicules the 
ministry in a way calculated, one would think, to do 
more harm than good ! Is our age, indeed, tending to 
too great reverence for the ambassadors of God ? What 
I have seen seems to show the contrary, to an alarming 
extent : and such sentiments as (X).'s, backed up by 
practice, will soon destroy the few remains of respect 
for the clergy, that yet lurk, perchance, in the breasts 
of a few New England bred men ! 

" Is it so, that one man ' happens^ to take on him the 
cure of souls, another of bodies, another of laws, etc., 
and that there is no real difference in these callings ? 
So says (X), and so say young men, who in a few 
months will have assumed all the duties of the — profes- 
sion! (I may not say * sacred') and with such exalted 
ideas of the peculiar and holy nature of their calling! 

" Well, ambition has been making some loud calls. 
After witnessing such an admiring tribute paid to a 
man (as was paid to X.), pride says, 'I can do it — I 
know I can — I feel conscious of the power.' But grace 
tells me, ' Not by might, nor by power, but by my 
Spirit.' Earthly honors, wealth, and pleasures, fade, of 



FOURTH YEAR— IDEAS OF PREACHING. 187 

course, before the glory of my mission ; but more than 
this: I have come to the conclusion that I had rather 
be the means, in God's hand, of converting one soul, than 
of rectifying the politics of a nation, reforming scores 
of drunkards, and liberating hundreds of slaves — if this 
were all — and correcting any or all of the ' abuses of 
the day.' I would rather have the power of prevailing 
with God, than the strength of the mightiest logician, 
or the sway of the most eloquent orator. Such, I api 
confident, are the honest feelings of my heart. So 
much, therefore, for my ambition. It has never run 
away with me yet. Ah ! but I am still afraid of 
it." .... 

His strong conception of the sacredness of the holy 
calling is well evinced by the following account which 
he in one place gives of a certain occasional sermon, to 
which he happened to be a listener. 

TO HIS FATHER. 

" Well, I went to church — the house crowded 



full — a military company present in full uniform. The 
preacher, taking one of those highly poetical passages 
in the Song of Solomon, descriptive of Christ, treated 
us first to an elaborate justification of war ; then dis- 
cussed the excellence of variety, e. g. in a Thanksgiving 
dinner ; and finished by dilating upon the importance 
of a sound platform politically, but with not a word 
about one morally or religiously. Not a single allu- 
sion — the remotest — was made to Christ, or indeed to 
religion in any way. Is this a church of God, I asked 



188 FOURTH YEAR — IDEAS OF PREACHING. 

myself. Is this man a minister of Christ, an ambassador 
from the court of Heaven ? Am I hearing the gospel — 
a sermon ? One could not avoid the conviction, for it 
was thrust upon all, that the chief object of thought to 
the speaker was — his dinner ! Repeated allusions were 
made to it — allusions which caused most to smile, but 
some to hang their heads for shame. 

u It had been but a few moments, I had waited in 
vain for any gospel or any point, and as, at the close, I 
bowed my head in prayer, I had no faith that God 
would hear, for I felt that His house had been dese- 
crated, and his word profaned. The splendid cornets 
of the military band led hundreds of voices in the 
glorious doxology, but I fear there was little breathing 
of heartfelt praise. I have said more than I intended, 
perhaps more than I ought; but I felt disturbed 
grieved, and indignant 

" Well, I cry out to my God, spare me, spare me } 
Suppose I become a minister — say of ' high standing,' 
what does it mean ? To preach, week after week, to a 
fashionable congregation, who shall admire, and go 
away 'pleased,' making flippant remarks about the 
c eloquent sermon V I could not endure it ! I would 
rather lift up my voice like a trumpet, and sound an 
alarm. Or, I would rather be a monk. Yet, think of 
it ! I, your son, may degenerate to all this ! Nothing 
but the great grace of God can prevent. This cursed 
love of applause, what shall overcome it ? One thing I 
am determined upon : I will not try to preach to please 
men. I believe men like preaching altogether too well. 
One would think it no longer true that the carnal mind 
is enmity against God. Or else the bitter medicine is 



FOURTH YEAR IDEAS OF PREACHING. 189 

so sugared, that men do not taste it. Here am I, with 
I know not what great commission from my Father, 
with the footsteps of my Master before me, and the 
crown of glory in full view, loitering, plucking earthly 
flowers, living at this dying rate, as if this earth were 
heaven, and the present moment eternity ! Pray that 
I may be raised up, have new grace, be made holy, and 

used as an instrument for great good 

" Your affectionate son," etc. 

At another time he writes that he has been hold- 
ing a discussion with some friends " on the subject 
of preaching for money," and in connexion gives the 
following incident and reflections : 

TO HIS FATHER. 

u April 24. 

"I went away on Sunday to preach. Somebody, 
who knew I was terribly pinched, says, ' I'm glad you're 
going, Nott ; you'll get ten dollars at that place.' I 
said nothing, cared little. Result — one dollar and 
twenty-five cents out of pocket ! 

" You would laugh heartily to hear the experiences 
of some of us among the benevolent churches. One 
student, who has been through college, and partly 
through theology, on his private property, told me 
yesterday that he had come within nine dollars of 
the end of it, and feared he must leave. • Why don't 
you preach your way along V I said. ■' I tried that 
most of last term,' he replied, i and the total results were 
two dollars out of pocket, and an upset in the stage- 
coach !' 



190 FOURTH YEAR IDEAS OF PREACHING. 

" Well, well, I don't know what I am saying. 1 
laugh to see them take it so seriously. The worst of 
it is, that a mercenary spirit is liable to be generated. 
Even the Gospel .comes to be a matter of barter. A 
levity in the treatment of religious themes is encouraged, 
so extravagant, that it would be ludicrous if it were not 
shocking." 

It seems this was not altogether understood ; and in 
the next he explains more emphatically. 

"May 1st 
" I am a little afraid that my last letter gave you a 
wrong impression. I certainly agree most heartily with 
what you say. I hate and despise the spirit which 
makes the Gospel a mere matter of trade. They will 
sell it for so much I I have always said here, and have 
tried to carry out the principle, that I would not allow 
any essential connexion to be established between my 
preaching and money. 

"I am the Lord's ; T will preach when and where my 
master sends me, and look to him for the reward. 
Sorrows, cares, disappointments may be the fruits ; even 
I myself may be a castaway. But no ! I thank God 
for His great and precious promises /" 

This is one side of the question, the side personal to 
the minister. Kingman held sound views. He would 
have reproved covetousness in a people, in as severe 
terms as a mercenary spirit in a preacher. " Take 
neither scrip nor staff," bat "The laborer is worthy 
of his hire." 



FOURTH YEAR IDEAS OF PREACHING. 191 

How it happened that correct conceptions of the 
nature, design, responsibility, and worth of preaching 
lay so clear and immutable in Kingman's mind, may 
be comprehended once for all from the perusal of the 
following letter from his father. Kingman had en- 
quired respecting his future course, whether it were better 
to commence theological studies immediately after gra- 
duating, or after the lapse of a year or two. The reply 
is of wider scope than the question. 

" Kennebttnkport, May 14th, 1855. 
"My Dear Son : 

" With regard to your future course, after leaving 
college, I have but one thing to say. With the minis- 
try in view — by all means, if it is at all possible, keep 
yourself right down to close study for it. This rather 
than school-teaching. Few, after teaching, go back to 
theological studies. This I say, on the supposition 
that pecuniary affairs can be arranged. 

" It is true, God calls variously into the ministry. He 
is not tied to a Theological Seminary. Yet, in an ordi- 
nary way, and especially when the young are called to 
the work, the completest education and training are 
indicated as wisest. What you have up to this time 
gained are mere shreds of varied knowledge, that will 
be blown away when you are tasked to effort. You 
want now to dig for hid treasures. You may remem- 
ber that Dr. Pay son, when seriously contemplating the 
ministry, shut himself up for some time to medita- 
tion, prayer, and the Bible — the only book. In theo- 
logical training, you want, first of all, this deep spiritu- 



192 FOURTH YEAR — IDEAS OF PREACHING. 

ality of mind attained. You want to get filled up with 
God's truth, spiritually discerned. Study Theology in 
this way. Be thorough in this way. Thus you will 
prepare yourself to do more than please the people — to 
build up Zion. The want of this very thing is the occasion 
of the barrenness, — the newspaper standard of some of the 
modern ministry. Don't go out a dressed young man, to 
make a show in the ministry; don't ever preach else than 
the marrow of the Gospel, with the Holy Ghost sent 
from Heaven. But you cannot rise higher than what 
gou are. A pint will be a pint. A butterfly will dis- 
port itself as such. A vain young man, and superficial 
with a mere spattering upon him of secular knowledge, 
can only exhibit himself as he is. People are discern- 
ing, common people especially. And if not so, God 
knows the heart, and will only bless in a way whereby 
He may be glorified. 

" With this substratum of preparation, yon then want 
Hebrew, Sacred Logic, Sacred History, Study of Doc- 
trines, Exegesis, etc. 

" I cannot help you with money . . . What 
can you do for yourself? Can you arrange to preach 
some ? Can you be aided through charity in part ? 
Can you live on a loan in part ? Would all or any of 
such ways be practicable? I do not know how to 
advise you at all, until I hear again, etc., etc. 
" Home well, as usual. 

" With much love, 

"H. G. Nott." 

We add, at the risk, perhaps, of tediousness, a letter 
from Kingman to Theron Brown, in which he urges that 



FOURTH YEAR — IDEAS OF PREACHIXG. 193 

Aiend to devote himself to the work of preaching^ 
It is inserted here in the hope that its arguments may- 
be availing in still other quarters than the original. 

" U. OF R., May 29th, 1855. 

" My Bear Brown : 

. ..." I think if we could but remember to what 
we are destined, we should not stoop to join in the 
vanities of worldlings. We should consent to be in 
the world only as missionaries. Our aims would be 
entirely apart from theirs. We are of heavenly birth, 
and ought to move in a higher, purer ether than this 
polluted atmosphere. But we seem to catch the poi- 
sonous breath, and are intoxicated by it. 

" I feel it, so do you. It stunts every plant of grace. 
We become all on fire with worldly and selfish — think 
of that ! — selfish ambition ! We labor intensely for 
our own glory, and, alas, for our Master's shame. Do 
you know anything about self-denial ? That is the 
question I have asked myself of late. I do not mean 
the denial of one passion for the gratification of a 
stronger, but of all for love to Christ 

" I hope that God has designed not only to place you 
among the redeemed in glory, but to make you shine 
as a star in the firmament, as one having turned many 
to righteousness. Of course you are making and will 
make it the object of your life to save souls — your own 
and those of other men. Doubtless you have often 
asked yourself the question, how with your gifts and 
circumstances, you may best accomplish this object. 
Perhaps, also, as you are now n earing the close of your 

17 



194 FOURTH TEAR IDEAS OF PREACHING. 

college course, and must soon choose your profession, 
you sometimes feel that the question ought to be b 
tied. 

" When I have thought over the alarming deflciencv 
of ministers, and the urgent cry for help, that comes up 
from every quarter, and then remember that you, my 
earliest friend, with your Christian profession, your 
talents and opportunities, are not yet consecrated to the 
special work, I cannot rest until I have at least unbur- 
dened my own heart. Think of 4000 Baptist churches 
in the United States alone without pastors ; think 
the sad state of our present mission fields, and of the 
new fields that are waiting for occupants ; and then 
remember that the supply coming from our seminai 
etc., is not even sufficient to fill the places of those who 
are annually removed by death ! 

" I do not know but you are already fully persuaded 
to preach the gospel. Of course it is a matter between 
your own soul and God alone, with which your friends 
have little to do. 2" will say no more, then, for fear of 
saying too much ; but oh, how I should delight to wel- 
come you as a fellow- workman by my side ! There 
is no side work, no indirect way of promulgating the 
truth, which can compare with the direct preaching of 
it. This is a luxury. I have never enjoyed anything 
else in the world so much as this. The truth seems 
more precious as one proclaims it to others," etc. 



CHAPTER XVIII. 

Fourth Year Continued — Graduation. 

extracts. 

11 February 28. 
" I shall rejoice when the time comes for me to 
devote myself entirely to the study of religious truth, 
Yet the qualifications for such an occupation, I am well 
aware, are spiritual rather than intellectual. How great 
the danger of departing from the simplicity of Christ, 
and the teachings of the Spirit, to be led away by the 
wisdom of men ! 

" For some reason I find my own tendencies decided- 
ly conservative with respect to doctrine. I have a love 
for the old-fashioned truths, which in many quarters 
are so fast becoming ridiculous. Providence, Election, 
and similar doctrines, I incline to accept in their fullest 
sense, and cling to with jealous love. Still, I feel cau- 
tious, on account of my ignorance." 

"March nth. 
" Prevailing with God ! that has been occupying my 
attention for a few weeks past. It flashed upon me from 
some remark thrown out on our Fast Day, and I saw 
at once that it was something of which I was almost 
wholly ignorant. if I but had that power ! what 
could I not do? Without it, utterly vain my acquire- 
ments, futile my labors. There's something worthy the 
ambition of a "man, yes, of a Christian." 



196 FOUBTH YEAR CONTINUED. 

" March 21. 
" Dear Mother : 

u My eyes have been rilled with tears to-night, and 
my heart with wonder and gratitude. 4 The Lord will 
perfect that which concerneth me.' Why, mother, I 
shall rival Dr. Stillwell, or even the raven-fed Elijah. 
Your letter brought with it one from L. B. S., inclosing 

five dollars, which had been sent me by Miss , the 

lady who, as you will recollect, gave me the same 
amount last summer. This evening's mail brings a 
letter from my good, kind friend, Mrs. Ilsley, inclosing 
six dollars, 'from a few sisters in their little church, to 
purchase any books, or pay any little bill that may be 
troubling you.' So to-night I have paid ten dollars, 
on my term and board-bill, and I feel quite lightened. 

" And so it is, notwithstanding all my unworthiness. 
I neglect God, but he does not neglect me. He is 
teaching me lessons of trust and faith every day. Pray 
that I may have full grace to be humble. One of our 
students prayed in meeting a few evenings since, ' Lord, 
if we need to be humbled, make us willing to do things 
that will humble us.' I find enough of these. 

"Well, mother, one more event. This is Wednesday 
night, March 21, 1855. To-morrow makes me twenty- 
one ! May I put off the old man with his deeds, and 
put on the new man Christ Jesus. To-morrow must be a 
day of reflection, resolution, and prayer. Good night." 

"Dear C : "April 5. 

u It is vacation ; what is that to me but a£- 
gravation ? Most of the students have departed ; 
a few cadaverous beings assist me in maintaining the 



FOUKTH TEAK CONTINUED. 197 

honor of our Alma Mater, in this her hour of deso- 
lation. 

"I began this day with a walk, at five o'clock. 
These mild, sunny spring days, how delightful ! All 
nature seemed rejoicing. The golden sun was just 
lifting his head, still half muffled in a nightcap of clouds, 
to listen to the salutatory of the robins — yes, real, live, 
singing robins ! Then I spent an hour or two in the 
reading and study of the Scriptures ; — the history of the 
Prodigal Son. I felt, I thought, willing like him to re- 
turn to my Father's house, and acknowledge all my sins.'*' 

" After breakfast my room-mate and I played ball 
for an hour, between ourselves for exercise : then I sat 
on the stoop, in the sunshine, reading Aristotle till 
dinner. This afternoon we have been in the President's 
library, and have borne away a huge pile of volumes 
for our vacation reading. So go the days, and so they 
will go for the next fortnight. Do pity me in my 
loneliness, and send me letters." 

The end of the college course was now at hand. 
The last recitation was had : 

" June 9. 

" There, dear mother, it is all over ! I have attended 
my last recitation and my last lecture, and Dr. Ander- 
son has spoken his few parting words. ... I would 
like to be at home this afternoon and upon the holy 
morrow ; and yet I find myself instinctively clinging 
to this dear place as though I never could leave it. I 
dread the time when I shall finally say good-bye to 
Rochester. The associations of every student here, 

17* 



198 FOURTH YEAR CONTINUED. 

and especially of one constituted like me, must always 
be peculiar, because they are not confined to the 
college, but extend to the city and its society. I may 
leave R. and not return for a generation, and yet even 
then, I shall not have to search the College Records 
for mementoes of my life here. I shall be remembered 
and known by some at least of its warm-hearted people 
and in a few of its hospitable homes. 

" My course has been peculiarly happy. From the 
ordinary jealousies and petty strifes of college life I 
have been mercifully kept free. I have not had an 
enemy, that I know of. 

" If I had money I would now go home, where I 
might stop and think a little ; and write my oration, 
with your inspiration, and under father's eye, and de- 
claim it to the roaring sea. But this, of course, is not 
to be thought of. . . . 

"Yours," etc. 

"June- 15. 
" My Dear R : 

" No sense of honor, in particular, requires me to 
write to-day. Nothing prompts me but the pure 
brotherly affection with which, 

" I subscribe myself, 

" Yours, till death, 

" Kingman." 

"What a splendid chance that was for a 



signature! I could not lose it, though I am not ready 
to stop. . . . 

" Well, I am through college ! I fee! profound 



FOURTH YEAR CONTINUED. 199 

gratitude to the wonderful providence that has led me 
blindfold through all the way, and brought me safely 
to the close. I am through, and by God's grace my 
character and my religion are still preserved. . . . We 

had our last recitation. Dr. A made a few feeling 

remarks I got out of the room, ran down 

cellar — and cried. Came home and wrote to mother — 
and cried. Pshaw ! 

" Yours, 

" K." 

His graduation was not without honors. "I can- 
not become satisfied with a subject for my Com- 
mencement oration," he wrote a little before. a I am 
at a hard, dry one now. ' The Impossibility of Athe- 
ism,' i.e., to prove that an atheist is a philosophical 
impossibility — never did, never can exist." This was 
his theme, and it was handled in anything but a hard 
and dry manner. Many literary gentlemen who were 
strangers to him, were greatly impressed with the indi- 
cations of power, both in the matter of the oration, its 
style, and the eloquent delivery, made interested in- 
quiries concerning the speaker, and freely predicted his 
future eminence. Many of these sought him out, 
and heartily tendered their congratulations. " You 
must have given great pains to the study of elocution," 
said a distinguished professor of Ehetoric. " Hardly 
ever an hour, sir," was the reply. His excellence in 
these respects was the gift of nature. 

An incident of the occasion was the public awarding 



200 FOURTH YEAR CONTINUED. 

of prizes for the "Senior Essay." Kingman had not 
intended to compete. He had, however, given the sub- 
ject ("The Ancient and the Modern Idea of a State"), 
careful examination, defined his own views, and gathered 
some rough material, which he had then flung aside. 
A day or two before the time fixed for the presentation 
of the essays, Nott was summoned before the President. 

a I posted off to his room — he shut the door and be- 
gan. * I have just incidentally learned that you have 
not written on the essay,' — ' I have not, sir.' He 
seemed to feel much disappointed, if not hurt. Cannot 
you go home and write something this afternoon ? I 
would not promise — but went straight home, and at it. 
Before breakfast next morning I had the essay written 
and copied, and handed it in — the first one. Of course 
I do not expect anything in the matter of a prize. 
This was only for the President's personal gratification. 
I feared he might fancy I did not feel well towards him." 

The feat itself would have been nothing, if the work 
had not been well done ; but it was performed in a style 
to win the admiration of the Committee of Award, and 
when the circumstances of the composition became 
known to them, to move their astonishment. Only one 
prize had been offered. This was properly awarded to 
a more elaborate composition by another writer. But, 
to Kingman's complete surprise, he heard on Com- 
mencement Day the announcement that a second prize 
had been assigned to him. 



CHAPTER XIX. 

Dover. 

It had been arranged that Kingman should enter 
upon his theological studies without delay, and there 
now intervened only the usual summer vacation of 
eight weeks. This was occupied with preaching and 
pastoral duty with the Baptist church in Dover, N". H. 

That church was then without a pastor, and in a 
languishing condition. Kingman had, at first, to con- 
tend with an additional disadvantage. He was young, 
and wore an unprofessional garb. Appearing on the 
scene in a light coat and broad-brimmed straw hat, 
and with a remarkably fresh cheek and innocent eye, 
with none of the pale hues of study, of that peculiar 
solemnity of look deemed by many appropriate to 
the ministerial profession, it is not surprising that 
high anticipations were not at once entertained by the 
people who saw him for the first time. His first ser- 
mon, indeed, set anxiety at rest; his voice and manner 
carried their own persuasion in the very reading of the 
hymns. 

But even then, his objects were not immediately 
comprehended. He had come with the understanding 
that he was to labor with the church for a certain space. 



202 DOVEE. 

His conception of the operations to be included under 
this general head, was essentially a different one from 
theirs. They expected in him a "supply;" by-and-by 
they hoped for a pastor, and, finally, a better state 
of things in the church. He intended work, by him- 
self and by the church, and a better state of things 
now. 

These explanations are introduced to make way for 
the letters that follow, which read like the unfolding 
scenes of a drama. 

"Dover, N. H., Aug. M, 1855. 
" My Dear Mother, 

" I should have written to you this morning, had 
I not then been determined to return home. I have had 
some curious experience since I came here. Luckily 
for me I am so constituted as to look on the bright side 
of life, otherwise, instead of writing this letter, I should 
be bringing water for your tea. 

" But to begin at the beginning, I had a very plea- 
sant ride I found my way to Mr. 's house. 

He had been to the depot to meet me, but did not find 
me. How strange that he should not have known that 
I was his minister ! He is a very pleasing, social, and 
intelligent man, and I have a very agreeable home in 
his family 

" Sunday came, a beautiful airy day. I was quite 
dispirited to find a very small congregation sprinkled 
over a neat, comfortable church, My words seemed to 
me to fall heavily on cold auditors. In the afternoon, 
there was a large increase in the audience. At six 



DOVER. 203 

o'clock, a very good missionary concert On the 

whole, I felt quite encouraged by the day's exercises, 
and bv what I learned of the state of things. 

"I really began to feel quite enthusiastic for ray 
work, and eager to move in some direction. I began 
to revolve various plans, and concluded to begin with 
the Sunday School, to preach at once upon the subject, 
and get them to increase their library and the number 
of scholars. Then I was going to establish an evening 
service for the Sabbath, and try to get in the uncon- 
verted young, of whom there are so many here. This, 
I thought, would he one step in advance. Still, I felt 
the necessity of moving very cautiously, and yet what 
I did must be done quickly. But these fine plans were 
quite disconcerted by the cool inquiries, ' When do 
}"ou leave V l Do you go to-morrow V 6 Are you going 
to spend the week with us ¥ etc. I did not know what 
to say. I did make bold to tell them that I thought I 
might spend the week in Dover. Of course I could not 
form any plans for advance, unless they expected me to 
be with them. So the conclusion that I come to is 9 
that in Dover c laboring 1 means preaching twice Sun- 
days. My vacation will be frittered away, with no good 
to myself or others. I prayed again and again for wis- 
dom, for direction, and for grace. Oh, such a field as 
there is here ! There is nothing in the way for this 
church to move forward and do a great work ! No 
other church is doing anything. I shall not come 
home at present, if I can help it. To-morrow, I am 
going to sermon-writing, and in the afternoon to making 
calls. Pray for me" .... 



204 DOVER. 

"Dover, N. H., Aug. 13, 1855. 
"Dear Father : 

" I really did not know I had written so dis- 
couragingly ; I am sorry I did so. I now see that my 
trouble was the result of inexperience and impatience. 
None of the people here, I suppose, expected me to 
become a fixture among them for six weeks ; but now 
that they see there is no remedy, they are rapidly 
becoming reconciled to the idea. — True, the church is 
in a low state, but the only distressing circumstance to 
me was, that I could see no way to get at work among 
them, as I wanted to do, right off. 

" But I assure you matters now wear a different 
face. My only question now is to improve the means 
I have at hand. The Lord has opened door after door 

in His good time I have called this week on a 

dozen or more families, talking and praying with them. 
Our Wednesday evening meeting was highly encourag- 
ing Sabbath evening I had the privilege of 

preaching to an audience by far the largest yet, and 
though consisting mostly of young persons, with a fair 
sprinkling of rowdies, yet very attentive. I have not 
enjoyed preaching so much for a long time. It was a 
true Albion season. ... I have begun a series of im- 
provements in the Sabbath School — which is now very 

small I have planned a busy week, yet there is 

not one of these duties which I do not anticipate with 
pleasure; and the pressure of the whole makes me 
elastic and happy. I never enjoy myself so much as 

when, brim full of business I have been making 

calls again. This experience is valuable, I assure you. 
I am acquiring quite a bold face and ready tongue in 



DOVER. 205 

talking with all sorts of persons face to face upon the 
salvation of their souls. It was hard at first, but I am 
learning to love it. ... I believe if the church would 
pray we might see the conversion of sinners. I cannot 
bear to stay without seeing an advance here. There 
is an advance already. 

" So if I was down last week, you see I am as far up 
now. I know you will charge me to keep humble, and I 
need that you should. Yet every time I preach I feel 
more strongly my own utter weakness, and the weakness 
of every human instrumentality, except as attended by 
God's power. I feel the need of great wisdom. I have 
been led to pray for it, and God seems, thus far, to 
have conducted me in just the best way. — Continue to 
pray for 

"Your affct. Son," etc. 

The next news that came, was the tidings of his 
sickness. He was overworked, and down with fever. 
One of his friends from home hastened to him, in some 
trepidation. But determination brought him up, and 
the very next Sabbath he preached all day. This 
served as a tonic. 

"I grew better and stronger all day long," he writes. 
" I could have preached half the night, in fact I did — 
to myself. It seemed almost miraculous, as if in direct 
answer to prayer." This was always his grand panacea 
— to preach ! 

" How delightful a Sabbath it was," he continues : 
44 my cup was running over. Such nearness in prayer, 

18 



206 DOVER. 

sucli views of Christ, such sweet dependence on Him, 
such tenderness of heart and anxiety for sinners*! When 
in the morning I read the first hymn, — these beautiful 
lines 

" * I would not sigh for worldly joy, 
Or to increase my worldly good, 
Nor future days nor powers employ 
To spread a sounding name abroad. 

" * 'Tis to my Saviour I would live, 
To him who for my ransom died ; 
Nor could all worldly honor give 
Such bliss as crowns me at his side.' 

u I could not conceal my emotion ; for the words 
seemed transferred from the page to my own heart; 
they became my own thoughts." He continues : "I have 
appointed an inquiry meeting. Three persons came to 
see me the first evening. Others, I am confident, would 
converse if I went to them. How can I keep still ? Yet 
the doctor tells me I must have perfect rest ; and I am 
compelled to give up the week." 

Finally : 

" Dover, Sept. 5, 1855. 
" Dear Father : 

" A field white to the harvest, and no one to reap 
it ! The thought has continually distressed me for 
many days, as I have beheld with wonder and anxiety 
the workings of God among us. The Holy Spirit waits 
for us to receive Him in a bountiful blessing." 



DOVER. 207 

Then an account of many inquirers; and then he 
continues : 

"I never so understood my weakness. If one would 
know how weak is man, let him undertake the work 
of a God ! Let him try to open blind eyes, and en- 
lighten understandings darkened by sin. . . . Yet I have 
had such a dawning of faith as I experienced in my 
conversion, and never since. I plead the sacrifice of 
Christ; I trust the promise of God ; I place these souls 
where I have rested my own. A holy calm fills my 
soul. . . . 

" Thus has a day of temptation and anxiety been 
succeeded by the firmest faith and glorying in God. 
This experience of a few hours I would not give for 
worlds. It repays all my labors in Dover. It is enough 
—my vacation is well spent. . . . And now I renounce 
my wicked unbelief, which has been my curse. Now, 
as I leave this field, I repose this Church, this little 
band of inquirers — these unconverted souls, all in the 
hands of Infinite Love, with a sweet assurance that God 
will care for them, and as well without me as with me. . . . 
I understand some things now better than before. I 
have the key to your sleepless nights; your constant 
care ; your agonizing prayers. I wonder that ministers 
live so long as they do. It has seemed to me that five 
years would suffice for this spark of life to exhaust itself, 
in such a sphere as this. How it may be in the future, 
I know not. I may get hardened to it ; but I cannot 
see how I could spend a long life in Dover except by 
miracle. And yet the reason why I could not ; the 
reason why ministers have suffered so much, and killed 



208 DOVER. 

themselves so soon, seems to me to be unbelief. Unbe- 
lief is the disease ; and their epitaph might be, 'Died of 
unbelief.' This is the secret of corroding care. If we 
had faith constantly in living exercise, could we not 
labor without care? Pray that God may consecrate 
me to His glory. Hoping to see you to-morrow. 

" Yours," etc. 



CHAPTER XX. 

Theological Seminary. 

Nott returned to Rochester well prepared for the 
peculiar studies in which he was now to engage. The 
" substratum of preparation," spoken of so earnestly hj 
his father, the spiritual apprehension and experience 
of truths, had been already acquired in a far more than 
ordinary degree. He came to the investigation of the- 
ological problems with the solutions already written in 
his own experience, and requiring only to be adequately 
expressed in formulas. " Know ye not this parable ? 
how then will ye know all parables i" The spiritual 
insight which interprets one, may solve all mysteries. 
But this is not "innate" — except in the "new man," by 
spiritual birth. 

The two years in the Seminary were of incalculable 
advantage to Kingman. He grew in grace, in manly 
traits, and in intellectual grasp, with astonishing rapidity. 
Each year had its peculiar array of providential means 
of culture, both in grace and knowledge. 

Kingman failed to discover that disastrous incom- 
patibility, of which students are so frequently in the 
habit of complaining, between the constant application 
of the mind to thought, even on topics of religion, and 
the maintenance of a good spiritual frame. " The most 
18* 



210 THEOLOGICAL SEMINARY. 

gratifying thing," be says, in one of his early letters, 
" is this, that the nature of these studies and the man- 
ner of conducting our daily exercises are such as to 
have an immediate bearing on my future work, and 
directly tend to keep the mind in a devotional frame. 
When all my studies are of the Bible and the Church, 
and when at the close of the day's labors we all meet 
together, classes and instructors, and read, sing, and 
pray, each day seems a Sabbath ; work is sacred, and 
drudgery is elevated to devotion." Yet how many 
lament a steady declining of spiritual power, as an 
unavoidable concomitant of growth in mental. 

He was more industrious now than ever before. He 
was in exuberant health, " perfectly overflowing with 
vim," he declares, and constantly in high spirits. He 
more easily now, than when he was younger, diverted 
his energies into the channel of mental labor. He strove 
to become systematic and regular, always a difficult feat 
for him. " I am making myself the most regular, me- 
thodical individual to be found," he says. " I rise every 
morning at five, jump into a tub, attend morning prayer 
meeting, and study the Bible till breakfast, attend to 
rhy theological studies till eleven," etc., etc. He gave 
much time to the careful study of the Scriptures, com- 
paring the Hebrew, or Greek, with German, French, 
and Latin, in the manner described by President Ander- 
son. It was in his first year in theology, too, that he 
reviewed his mathematics and read Plato. Besides. 



THEOLOGICAL SEMINARY. 211 

this, lie instructed a private pupil in Greek and Latin, 
bestowing upon hiui regularly an hour or two each day. 
He professed great interest in the Hebrew. Yet he 
declares, giving a true account of his disposition, " I 
shall never be able to metamorphose myself into a book- 
worm. My nature cries out rebelliously at the gentlest 
insinuation of the thought. I never shall know much, 
and what I do acquire will mostly be gathered by expe- 
rience and mingling with nature and with men." He 
had always an eye to the practical. He prized facts, 
as he did money, as means of power over men to their 
good. 

The first year in the seminary was especially favored 
with tokens of God's graciousness to him and around 
him, in revivals of His work. Kingman had "three 
great prayers ; " he often speaks of them. They were 
for a revival in Rochester, a revival in Kennebunkport, 
and a revival in Dover. On this theme he dwells un- 
intermittingly. Each of these prayers was this year 
answ T ered, beyond the full extent of the request, and in a 
manner extremely significant and encouraging to a spirit 
of prayer. 

As to Rochester, he was oftentimes in an agony of 
desire. He had come through college and no revival ! 
In the senior year he had visited every unconverted 
student, many more than once, and there was no fruit ! 
He was hastening to the time when he should bid fare- 
well to each loved scene in R., and yet no outpourings 



212 THEOLOGICAL -SEMINARY. 

of God's spirit to sanctify his recollections ! He could 
not endure the thought. He craved it as a great boon 
from his Heavenly Father, that he might be permitted, 
in his day, to see a revival of religion in the University. 

Not only his prayers, but his practical efforts were 
redoubled. 

He endeavored to preserve unimpared his influence 
in the college. He kept up old acquaintanceships and 
sought new. He made a point of attending the meet- 
ings of the Literary Society, of which he had been a 
member, took part in their debates, and for a consider- 
able time was a regular contributor to the society paper. 
The popularity thus maintained he endeavored to turn 
to holy account. He was the moving spirit in esta- 
blishing circles of prayer, in which undergraduates 
chiefly were gathered. He sought out students in their 
rooms^and conversed and prayed with them. And it 
was remarkable that he expressed the most confident 
assurance of a coming work of God : " It will come — 
it will come," repeated he again and again. " I well 
remember this," was the recent remark of one who was 
in college at that time, — "not only his activity and hope- 
fulness, but his extraordinary positiveness." This, which 
would have been presumption without a corresponding 
inclination to work, was simply inspired faith. 

In order to show, in the present instance, how " faith 
wrought with his works," and was thus " made perfect," 
a series of extracts is subjoined, taken from several sue- 



THEOLOGICAL SEMINARY. 213 

cessive letters. It will be seen that they advance to a 

climax. 

" Sept. 19. 

" Our dearly beloved institution has never yet been 
blessed with a revival. How sad it would be for me 
to leave Eochester as it now is ! I do not believe I shall 
be compelled to do so." 

" Sept 26. 

" A little band meets at my room at half-past sir 
every morning to pray. We have had delightful sea- 
sons of prayer. We are going to pray for a revival. 
Do you think we shall see it ? There are more than 
4 two or three' — there are Jive of us. Prepare yourself 
for good news? 

" Oct. 8. 

" There is a better state of things with us spiritually. 
We are all very low, it is true ; stiff, cold, and hard ; 
but there is a little lighting up, I think. I am not with- 
out strong hopes of a revival. How delightful ! how it 
would endear to me each scene of each companion ! how 
it would bless the world by consecrating the talent here 
collected ! We have now, besides our regular Sunday 
and Wednesday meetings, six daily circles of prayer, 
in different rooms, at the same hour — from six o'clock 
to half-past six in the morning. We commenced with 
one and it has spread to these. It is wonderful what a 
blessing this praying gives to the day !" 

" Oct. 10. 

" I am still clinging to my belief in a revival about 

to come. There is, there must be a blessing in store 

for us, and I think we shall pray it down. I already 

rejoice — exult. It will come — it will. God save me 



214 THEOLOGICAL SEMINARY. 

from flinging away my faith I still feel my rich 

experience in Dover. I am a different man for it. I 
know something of faith, and prevalence in prayer." 

" Oct. 15. 
" Our number of daily praying-circles has increased 
to eight — developing a power of prayer which must 
prove effective. God will bless us, despite our cold- 
ness, and give us a revival, in spite of ten thousand 

opposing influences." 

" Oct. 17. 

"We still pray. But most of us are either too 
indolent or too engrossed in worldly affairs to attend 
properly to the care of our own souls or to the rescue 
of others. And the devil does not sleep meanwhile, 
and already he has in preparation a host of active, evil 
influences. The more of life I have to look back upon, 
the more narrow seems my escape from utter ruin, and 
the greater my indebtedness to sovereign grace. 

" I have seldom taken more delight in the ordinan- 
ces of worship than I do now. I live in hope, and try 
to live in faith. Soon, soon enough, the full work of 
God will be upon me. God spur me on to the hottest 
of the fight, and when I fall, take me to receive the 
crown." 

"Nov. 8th. 
" My dear Father : 

" It has come — It has come ! The blessing is upon 
us, just as we were giving ourselves over to discourage- 
ment and unbelief. Last Monday night saw the admis- 
sion of a soul into the Kingdom of God ! It was a 
solemn hour : we two were alone with God, and in 
the dark. The struggle was intense. It seemed as 



THEOLOGICAL SEMINABY. 215 

though an evil spirit were wreaking its last vengeance 
before being cast out. It ended: — all ^as surrendered 
to the conquering Jesus, and he vouchsafed such peace 
as he alone can give. It was a very clear case ; the 
transformation was complete, and the very point of 
transition was plain. I felt most deeply that here was 
the omnipotence of God, working in its own wondrous 
way. — what a night that was ! I found him a sin- 
ner, and left him a brother in Christ 

" Last evening, after meeting I was called to see and 
pray for a young man of the Sophomore Class, whom 
I found in great disturbance of mind. Others, too, are 
thoughtful ; and unless Christians determine to do 
nothing r , and by unbelief or presumption drive away 
the Spirit, I do believe God will work greater things 
for us 

" God has come to the help of my faith just in time. 
I had beorni to be almost frightened at having said so 

o o o 

much here, and in my letters, about a revival, while all 
around were ready to say, '"Where are the signs of his 
appearing?' Then I was becoming so distracted by 
my studies and daily work, that I began almost to 
excuse myself from going to labor among my fellow 
students, and now feel that wherever my master most 
requires my services, there I shall be found. 

"Yours," etc. 

So much for the beginning of the work. Other 
conversions soon took place, and in the winter the 
interest in college received fresh impetus from a power- 
ful revival that sprang up in the city. 



216 THEOLOGICAL SEMINARY, 

Still another answer to his prayers is immediately 
recorded. 

" God is cheering my heart with good tidings from 
my dear people in Dover, The spirit is among them, 
so that they are greatly encouraged. Now if I could 
only hear of a revival in Kennebunkport," he adds, " then 
my three great prayers would all be answered. I can 
almost believe that it will be so. I believe much the 
more, now that you hold meetings to pray for that 
special object." 

This third prayer was to be answered later. He con- 
tinues, encouraging his faith by recalling his still fresh 
experience. 

u I told you of my experience relative to prevailing 
prayer during the summer. I came here, fully pos- 
sessed with the thought, and I ventured to talk it 
out. We began to pray — as feeble in numbers as 
you are, at first — resolved that we would continue to 
pray until the answer came. Now what a lesson God 
has taught me ! It was not presumption ! While we 
were praying and doubting in our rooms here, how 
little we knew what was going on around us. In 
another room a party of young men, all irreligious, were 
together, talking — and about what ? — about Religion. 
One of them, moved by an unaccountable but irresisti- 
ble impulse, started to his feet, stood before them and 
said, l Well boys, for my part, I wish I were a Christian !' 
" I hope you count me among your number at your 
Monday evening meetings in Kennebunkport. If my 
prayers can avail aught, by faith in Christ, be sure they 
are with you. 



THEOLOGICAL SEMINARY. 217 

" ' Though sundered far, by faith we meet 
Around one common mercy-seat/ " 

A little later : — " Good news still from Dover. They 
are about settling a pastor. Their meetings are increas- 
ing in interest, and awakenings and conversions occur. 
I wait to hear great things. — We are holding on here 
as well as we can. We pray still," etc. 

While the history pauses, there is time for a few 
miscellaneous letters and extracts. 



to c- 



" I was especially gratified by the religious tone of 
your letter. My .conscience has made me commit 
more than one epistle to the stove instead of the post- 
office, because there was no religion in it." 

" Beware of being cheated out of present usefulness 
by fancying what you would do if God had placed you 
thus and thus, or by dreaming of exploits in the future. 
I believe that God places every child of His just where 
he can render the most effective service. May He give 
you grace," etc. 

to r . 

" I believe we are alike in one particular. Each is 
remarkably dependent on constant contact and associa- 
tion with the means of grace and with Christian labor, 
to enable us to keep up spiritual life. Hence I doubt 
very much whether I could hope to preserve much 
religious activity in a secular calling. The ministry is, 
19 



218 THEOLOGICAL SEMINARY. 

in some sense, essential for me. I should like to know 
whether your unwillingness to think of the ministry 
has not risen with the decline and fallen with the in- 
crease of your religious vitality ? I can but fancy that 
you will find no solid, satisfactory, and permanent 
enjoyment of religion, without laboring directly in 
spiritual things — directly and exclusively, I may say. 
If you do not think yourself to be depended upon as a 
public speaker to a constant audience, why, go into the 
woods and the jungle, or preach with your pen. / 
hardly dare to look forward to a pastorate at home. 
But wdiat the leadings of Providence may be, of course 
I do not know. I want to take my stand between the 
altar and the plough, and say, ' Lord, ready for either.'" 

In a letter to his friend Brown, he says : 

"I am a different man from what I was even 

a few months ago. My happiest days are past, in one 
sense. There is a higher happiness, more soul-filling, 
found in laboring for Christ, which I hope yet to expe- 
rience far more largely. Here is an exhaustless foun- 
tain of joy, from which I have as yet taken the merest 
taste. But for this, I would with my whole heart 
second you and Montgomery and Muhlenberg in sigh- 
ing to sleep in death. As it is, I feel that I have a 
work to do which should engage my highest powers, 
strained to the utmost of cultivation and of activity. 
Life is none too long for my work. I want to make 
my own calling and election sure, and then I want to 
be one of the wise to win souls, shining as a star for 
ever in the firmament of God. Nothing less than this 



THEOLOGICAL SEMINAKY, 219 

glory is my ambition. Let me rather say, them that 
my days of folly are past, while the happiest are yet in 
store for me. 

" I am unwilling, my dear brother, that our friend- 
ship should abate a tithe of its ardor. It already 

beg-ins to claim the sacredness of age The more 

we are our Saviour's, the more we shall be each other's. 
Had it not been for your coming into my room one 
night, an inquirer after Christ, and afterwards finding 
that Saviour, we should not be such friends to-day. 
Our paths would have diverged, and the constantly 
widening and deepening breadth of separation might 
at last have become an impassable gulf! 

" But I would not preach to you. I hope the tide is 
not banging you against the rocks, nor sweeping your 
head beneath the waters. A Senior in Yale ! You 
must exult in your position and prospects. 0, I hope 
you will come out with a heart all burning with a 
Saviour's love, and fresh for the work of our Master. . . . 

" Yours," etc. 

" November 14. 
"Dear Mother : 

"There are no new developments among us, but 
our prayer-meetings are increasing in frequency and in 
interest, and I think there is a deeper piety settling 
down on the hearts of many. I do hope I am growing 
in grace. Gently the Lord is leading me to Himself, 
despite all my rebelliousness. It is with tears of grati- 
tude that I acknowledge it. This has been a blessed 
day. I have enjoyed prayer, enjoyed study, and all my 
duties. ... I get a great deal of new light for every 



220 THEOLOGICAL SEMINARY. 

hour I study the Scriptures. Old difficulties vanish, 
and new meanings come home to my soul with a de- 
lightful force. 

" One thought to-day has especially impressed me, 
and is with me yet. It is, that Christ in no instance 
used his miraculous power for display, nor to gratify 
curiosity, nor yet in his own behalf alone. It was 
always for the direct good of others. He could not be 
tempted to cast himself down from the temple pinna- 
cle. That would have done no good : it would have 
been simply for display. . . . With all his powers, 
Christ never ' showed off!' Yet I, his follower, have 
made that how often my effort, all my life ! 

" I am pondering this resolution : when I have suf- 
ficiently prayed for grace to keep it, I will try to adopt 
it for the practical rule of my life. Never to write a 
sentence, nor speak a word, nor do an act, but what 
shall tend, directly or indirectly, to the good of some of 
my fellow-men. Then, and not till then, shall I be 
consecrated to my work." 

" November 14. 

" Dear R : 

..." I have a fault to find with your last three 
or four letters. I allude to it, because it is uppermost 
in my mind. You do not give me enough of your Chris- 
tian experience. While I am praying for you, several 
times a day, and constantly thinking of you, and wish- 
ing for you, I long to know whether my prayers for 
you are answered, and to receive the assurance that 
yours are ascending for me. I confess to a feeling of 
disappointment, when I read entirely through your 



THEOLOGICAL SEMINARY. 221 

letter, and find almost all I want, or have a right to 
expect, — all but just what I most want, and most have 
a right to expect. 0, I do hope you are not freezing 
spiritually. You cannot afford to lose the vantage 
ground acquired in the last year. And I suppose a 
very short peiiod would suffice to throw you back into 
that dreadful state of inactivity, wretchedness, and 
almost despair, which you knew for so long. . . . 

"Yours," etc. 

" November 28. 

" I have received and have accepted an invitation 
from my friends in Williamson, to spend to-morrow 
with them, and preach a Thanksgiving-sermon in the 
Baptist church. 

... "I discover, on thinking of it, that a Thanks- 
giving-sermon is, or ought to be, a peculiar thing. I 
really hardly know what to do. I hate political ha- 
rangues, as desecrations of the day, the place, and the 
ministerial office ; and yet I never preached or thought 
of any sermon that would be at all fitting. I have 
pitched, however, upon this text — see what you can 
make of it : 4 The Sabbath was made for man, not man 
for the Sabbath.' " 



19* 



CHAPTER XXI. 

Lecturing — Revivals in Rochester and in Kenne- 

bunkport. 

The vacation at the Holidays was occupied with a 
lecturing tour in the far East. The Lyceum Committee 
of Dover, N. H., had extended an invitation to him to 
lecture before their association. Great Falls, N. H., and 
Calais, Maine, sent similar requests. The article on 
" The Ancient and the Modern Idea of a State," was 
accordingly re-written, expanded to the proper propor- 
tions, and made to serve the purpose of a lecture. 

It was first spoken in Calais, a town more than two 
hundred miles east of Portland (which forms the bound- 
ary to the conception of the East to most persons), and 
accessible only by a long and hazardous sea-voyage. 
" At Eastport," says Kingman, "we doubled the North 
Pole, and advanced, clear of ice, into Dr. Kane's Open 
Sea." This was really the St. Croix River, distinguished 
for the remarkable beauty of its scenery. Calais, a 
young city, deserves to be as celebrated for the intelli- 
gence and thrift of its inhabitants, as it already is for 
the enormous production of good lumber. 

Kingman's lecture, in this and in other places, was 
received with warm approbation. It was spoken with- 
out notes. 



LECTURING — REVIVALS. 223 

Writing from Dover, he says, " I have no reason to 

complain of the verdicts brought to me But I 

will tell you what I enjoyed most — the prayer-meeting 
last evening. The vestry was nearly full, and the Lord 
was with us. There was much free conference on the 
theme of the cross of Christ." 

Returning to Rochester, he found himself recruited 
in health, and with a fair pecuniary equivalent for his 
pains. 

The winter of '56 was remarkable in Rochester for a 
powerful and general revival of religion. Already, as 
we have seen, in the college there had been more than 
ordinary interest. In the city the work began and con- 
tinued in connexion with the preaching of that well- 
known evangelist, Mr. Finney. For months the churches 
were thronged daily, both to hear preaching, and for 
conference, inquiry, and prayer. The converts were 
numbered by hundreds. It was the precursor, in the 
State of New York, of that great religious awakening, 
which, in 1858, extended over the whole North, and 
introduced a new era in religious operations. 

At first Kingman was fearful and cautious. The 
excitement might not be genuine. " I trust the Spirit 
is in all this," he writes. " I think He is. It must be 
the Spirit ; certain I am it is not the effect of eloquence, 
it is not a fanciful excitement" As the work advanced, 
the hand of God was clearly exhibited. 

Kingman found the difficulty at first which many 



224 LECTURING REVIVALS. 

have experienced, in estimating Mr. Finney — who as a 
well-known, public character, concerning whom public 
discussion has been had, may freely be spoken of by 
name. " I do not know what to make of Mr. F.," he 
says. " Certainly he is far enough from any approach 
to a ' popular preacher :' — as dry as an old bone— but 
fearfully personal and close. It benefits me to hear 
him in many respects." 

Later he sees more clearly : "I have been trying all 
the term to comprehend Mr. Finney. I have been as 
much at a loss to see where his power lay, as the Philis- 
tines were with reference to Samson. I have styled 
him the man whom nobody likes, and everybody goes 
to hear. And so it has been. But last evening he 
struck a new vein, and I felt the Finney. It was a stu- 
pendous sermon. I was half beside myself. The sub- 
ject was, l Conscience : its Nature, Authority, and Reve- 
lations.' It was a mass of bold, compact, solid logic, 
poured out in the most forcible manner, and perfectly 
irresistible in its power. It was not rhetoric, not pas- 
sion ; yet Gough did not affect me more. Oh, well, 
what a poor, little, weak, superficial mortal am I, intel- 
lectually and spiritually !" 

Feb. 25, more about the work itseli 

" God is doing a wonderful work in this city. It 
seems miraculous that so thorough a change in popu- 
lar sentiment should have been wrought in so short a 



LECTURING — REVIVALS. 225 

time. It is said that there has been no period since 
1830, when the minds of the community have been so 
generally awake to the subject of religion. JSo church 
in the city can contain the throngs that press to hear 
Mr. Finney, and scarcely a lecture-room the numbers 
that attend the daily prayer-meetings. Inquirers show 
themselves by hundreds. 

" I magnify the Lord and bless Him for His wonder- 
ful works to the children of men. . . . To-morrow is our 
great day " [the day of Prayer for Colleges], u the day 
to which we have long been looking forward, hoping for 
and expecting God's rich blessing in answer to prayer. 
1 know you will remember me and us all in an especial 
manner. Dead and unworthy as we now are, God 
deigns to bless us, and four of our fellow-students have 
recently indulged hope. 

" I enjoy Mr. F.'s preaching more, the better I un- 
derstand the man. There is a severe holiness about 
him, that makes me revere him, while he manifests 
the utmost humility and homely sincerity. I some- 
times feel a weak point in his theology, but he does not 
seem to make it his mission to proclaim his peculiar 
views. He is manifestly in search of souls, and is win- 
ning, I think, the increased confidence of Christians. . . . 
He is very cool, cautious — and deals with conscience. 
There is no machinery — no noise, but a wide and deep 
feeling that is amazing. The work takes hold mostly 
on men. . . . There is a great spirit of prayer — intel- 
ligent prayer." 



226 LECTURING — REVIVALS. 



TO A SISTER. 

"February 29, 1856. 



"Dear L- 



... "It rejoices and strengthens my heart to 
have you breathe such desires for me. You must be 
willing to pray much for me also, for I assure you that, 
if I ever become what you wish, I must greatly 
change. 

" My Christian experience is very shallow. It does 
not lie deep enough in my soul. Truths float about on 
the surface of my mind, but do not pervade my nature. 
I often think of a remark which Dr. Anderson once 
quoted to me from father, l After all, a man can preach 
effectively only so much truth as he has experienced in 
his own soul.' That is what I want, and must have — 
more experience. All else is unavailing. This is just 
where I am weak, utterly weak," etc. 

The letter then proceeds to describe the celebration 
of the Day of Fasting and Prayer in the College. 
One paragraph gives an illustration of his remarkable 
susceptibility to powerful impressions from good oratory. 
It was the same with magnificent scenery, or music of 
peculiar grandeur. Their effect was sometimes exciting- 
even to a sort of painful extacy. 

" We had a solemn day. In the morning there was 
preaching. I do not know what to say of the sermon. 
I have not got over trembling under it yet. It made 



LECTURING REVIVALS. 227 

me shut myself up, fling myself on my bed, and cry 
for an hour. It gave me new ideas of the heart and 
power of the preacher — and I may say of man, for I 
never before felt the power of any human being so. 

For that hour was Massillon. The text was from 

Ps. xc. ( Who knoweth the power of thine anger ! 
According to thy fear, so is thy wrath.' I hope the 
good effects of this blessed day will go with us," etc. 

It was now the set time when the third great prayer 
of this young Jacob, who had learned to prevail with 
God, was to be answered. For many years the little 
church at Kennebunkport had known no refreshing 
from on high. But the ground had been sown, and 
watered with tears, and suddenly over the field that 
seemed all barren, a harvest stood visible, and ready 
for reaping. A vacation in the Seminary was at hand. 
Word came to Kingman, " Home — and help us thrust 
in the sickle." He hastened away, grateful to the 
Hearer of Prayer. 

In the course of the journey, incidents occurred, 
which are thus dramatically narrated. 

« Dear B : 



.... "I received my father's letter Friday, and 
took the cars the same night. Reaching Spring- 
field Saturday night, I dropped down to Hartford for 
the Sabbath. Oh ! how that portion of the journey 
filled me with remembrances of old Sufheld ! We 
came to c The Locks.' I got out and looked about in 



228 LECTURING REVIVALS. 

the dimness. I remembered the first time I came there, 
the greeting I received from my old teacher, the kind- 
ness he showed to me for my own and my father's 
sake. I burned to fall down and tell him, that, for 
what I was, I felt myself indebted to him more than to 
any man, save my own father. When should I see him 
again ! Certainly next summer. Meanwhile I would 
write him a long letter. — 4 Anybody going to Suffield V 
cried i Old Prout,' or somebody else. I almost said 
1 Yes P but no — it was impossible. So I hurried on, 
busy with thoughts of past days. 

" I arrived at Hartford — sought the same hotel where 
H. and I companied one night long ago. In the morning 
I went to church. After I was seated, a lady swept in, 
proceeding up the aisle. I looked again, I could not 

be mistaken — no, it was my old schoolmate, ! At 

the close of the service, as she passed out, I stood before 
her. l Mr. Nott !' exclaimed she, wondering. Then 
there was an introduction to various friends. We talked 
of Suffield, and of Mr. Woodbury. I lauded him from 

my heart. ' Yes,' said Mrs. , ' we all feel his death 

very much !' 

.... "I cannot tell you howl felt. Dead — dead? — 
'Yes, we buried him yesterday.' And I might have 
been there ! My visit was spoiled, my journey was sad- 
dened, and I passed Suffield Monday morning, feeling 
that all was gone now. There is no one in Suffield for 
whom I care, or who cares for me. Some time — not 
now — I shall like to go and kneel at his grave, and 
offer a thanksgiving for his life — a tear for his death. 

" You knew him — loved him. You have doubtless 
heard the particulars of his triumphant departure. He 



LECTUEDsG REVIVALS. 229 

passed away with the words on his lips, ' Half in earth 
and half in Heaven P " 

Kingman remained in Kennebnnkport nearly one 
month, preaching almost daily, and giving assistance to 
his father in the necessary visiting and conversing. 

He thus describes the scenes transpiring. 

"Rbnnebunk, April 17, 1856. 
"Dear R : 

.... "I hope you appreciate the fraternal affection 
that has dragged me out of bed half an hour earlier than 
usual this morning of blue Monday, for the express pur- 
pose of despatching a letter to you by the early mail. 

" The work here has been advancing, in spite of rain, 
mud, and unbelief. The last week has been tedious — 
all rain, drizzle, and fog ; there are no walks, other than 
gutters between great snowbanks. I preached Tuesday 
and Wednesday evenings ; since then we have met in 
the vestry, and have had delightful meetings. Eight 
persons have been added to the church, all of whom 
are heads of families. They appeared very happy in 
their baptism, and shouted aloud when coming out of 
the water. It was long since I had seen a river bap- 
tism. To see it here made my heart full of rejoicing. 
Friday and Saturday evenings we had the most heavenly 
seasons of Christian communion. The Jbrethren seemed 
almost transported. Father preached on Baptism yes- 
terday ; what it is — what it symbolizes — what its obli- 
gation ; an elaborate and irresistible argument — enthu- 
siastic too. I spoke afternoon and evening. Five mem- 
bers received the right hand of fellowship, among them 

20 



230 LECTURING EE VIVALS. 

the woman whom father baptized a month ago on his 
own responsibility, the church refusing to receive her, 
We had a solemn evening, and one poor sinner was so 
pricked in the heart as to rise, overcome completely, 
and only able to say, 4 1 want you to pray for me !' 

" The brethren are frightened, and wanting to retreat. 
But the Spirit is not yet grieved, and we shall push on 
the meetings as fast and as far as we can. 

" Dear Lizzie [the youngest sister] is fully brought 
out now, so as to give undoubted evidence of an intelli- 
gent and thorough conversion. It is a practical thing 
with her, and she talks like a Christian of years' stand 
ing. Bless God ! thus is brought in the last of out 
dear mother's offspring. Do you not suppose she looks 
with joy on this event, and takes infinite satisfaction in 
knowing that all her children are safe — three in heaven 
with her, the rest in the bosom of the church ? Prayer 
is answered. 

" Letters from Rochester are encouraging ; others are 
converted, among them F., whom I have loved so much 
as a classmate. 

" My own heart is full ; sometimes I seem to live in 
heaven by the hour. Last evening these thoughts so 
filled me, as to drive away the sermon I had prepared, 
and I was forced to preach on l Heaven.' But, I can- 
not tell you all. Father seems to renew his youth. He 
is full of fire. He talks all the while of the ' All Power' 
and the 4 worth of a soul ;' he laughs, tells stories, and 
seems supremely happy. Good bye. 

At no time, probably, in his whole ministerial career, 



LECTURING REVIVALS. 231 

not in Albion or Dover, nor in New York, did Kingman 
continuously, for so long a time, preach with so much 
power as during these three weeks at Kennebunkport. 
The discourses were, altogether, perhaps fifteen in num- 
ber. Most of them had been delivered several times 
before, and so were weapons more accurately fitted to 
the hand than untried productions often can be, while 
yet, from his living earnestness, they were kept sharp, 
and launched with the same vigor and directness as 
when they were new. These sermons, as often fondly 
spoken of by his father (and judged in a literary way), 
were chiefly remarkable for their perfectly artistic ar- 
rangement and- finish — the more singular since they 
were unwritten. An exact logical order reigned 
throughout, controlling even the sentences and words ; 
so that on any point neither too much nor too little was 
said, nor anything irrelevant admitted. The method 
was constructive, not aggregative. Thoughts, whether 
the principal or the subordinate, stood not side by side, 
but in line. As there was no verbiage, so also there 
was no independency of parts or phrases. No strag- 
gling fancies were allowed to go ambitiously foraging 
for the beautiful and elegant ; all were kept in rank, and 
the ranks in column — marching straight forward on to 
the final issue. The easily besetting disposition to 
wander was effectually forbidden, and the inclination to 
impertinent ornament relentlessly crucified. Words, 
giving up their individuality, aimed only to contribute 



232 LECTURING REVIVALS. 

to that perfect unity in which dwells power. Thus, 
there was a steady surging onwards from the beginning 
— the wave gathering head as it proceeded, until, at the 
instant of its greatest mass and momentum, it broke 
with the aggregate force of all its atoms. Yet the style 
was by no means barren. The theory of construction 
demanded perfect accuracy of language ; it was consis- 
tent also with ease, glow, and a pruned luxuriance. Such, 
at this time, was Kingman's ideal of a sermon — his model. 
Afterwards, when a settled minister, he adopted much 
of the time a somewhat different method — at least allow- 
ed himself the liberty of methods. He was more fre- 
quently picturesque and discursive ; and sometimes chose 
the guerilla plan of warfare — stopping anywhere in the 
course of the sermon to skirmish, and shooting vigorously 
whenever he was able to take aim. And he frequently 
preferred an effective grouping to a logical procession. 

His style had also this excellence which is beyond 
price — absolute transparency. The language was purely 
the medium of the thought, and no one was ever at a 
loss for an instant to comprehend his meaning. But the 
discussion of the general features of his composition 
belongs later. 

His customary ardor was, of course, augmented here 
at home, preaching under his father's eye, and for the 
salvation of his own townsmen and friends. He aimed 
to declare the most solemn and pungent truths, and to 
drive them home to men's consciences. 



LECTURING — REVIVALS. 233 

Two sermons are held in special remembrance, one 
from the text, " Who told thee thou wast naked ? " 
the other, that on " Heaven," in which he seemed to 
be, indeed, " living in heaven" for that hour. In the 
pulpit he appeared never otherwise than as having the 
accomplishment of a great result in view, and eagerly 
longing for it. Hours of leisure he occupied much 
with prayer, since he hungered for the Spirit's aid. He 
was more than once heard weeping and pleading ; in 
fine, from all representations, words could hardly de- 
scribe his yearning and earnestness. The " All Power" 
was with him, and many were converted unto tha 
Lord. 



20* 



CHAPTER XXII. 

Letters — Vacation — Tbemont Temple — White 
Mountains. 

On his return to Rochester he finds the religious in« 
terest not cooled. 

April 24. 

" . . . . But now for the wonders. I have been to 
the prayer-meeting this morning. They have adjourned 
to the churches. The church was almost full — six or 
eight hundred persons. Finney is here, preaching with 
unabated vigor. The meetings are more powerful than 
at any time yet. A band of young men, who had 
formed an association for their better growth in vice, 
have all been converted. It has been agreed to continue 
the prayer-meetings during the year I feel over- 
awed at God's power : — ' Stand still, and see the salva- 
tion of God.' " 

A reference to his late visit occurs : 

To his Father : — 

. . . . " Perhaps I did wrong in leaving you as I 
did. But the time of my preparation seems so short 
at the longest, and so strong is the pressure to push me 
off my course, that I am perhaps in some cases over- 
jealous To know that I have in any way been 



LETTERS — VACATION. 235 

a means of personal gratification to yourself, is the 
highest joy I know on earth, next to gaining God's ap- 
proval. My visit home was to me the most satisfactory 
I ever made. It will prove of lasting advantage to 
me." 

A lively letter of vigorous good advice to a young 
sister, who was, for the time, ambitious, self-reproachful, 
and doleful : — 

"May 10. 
"My Dearest C d. 

. . . . " What a pity it is, indeed, that the vast 
sum total of all human knowledge cannot be condensed 
and crammed into your little head in one summer term's 

work I How strange, indeed, how sad, that C , 

like the rest of us, should be doomed to be a plodder, 
learn little by little, and leave the great bulk of know- 
ledge untouched after all ! Yes, it is very sad, 0. ; and 
you are homesick and disconsolate, and you meditate 
and mourn and cry, and grow very solemn and very 
white and very pensive, and thus fulfil the requisitions 
of a young ladies' boarding-school. In all of which, 
allow me to suggest you are the opposite of wise. Your 
father would rather you should be a romp than a nun. 
Your brother would certainly prefer it. Don't tumble 
into reveries and repinings and aerial aspirations, and 
mope and sigh because you cannot make yourself per- 
fect in a day. 

"You confound father's ideal of what he would have 
you do and be, with what he actually expects of you as 
a limited, imperfect, and depraved being, and under cir- 



236 LETTERS — VACATION. 

cumstances in many respects unfavorable Your 

complainings remind me of the scene of poor Willie's 
distress, when, with a good dinner before him, he stopped 
and literally cried because he coulS not be more than 
five years old ! Of all human follies, the blues are the 
most reprehensible and foolish. It is a waste of time 
to indulge them. I would fight them, I'd laugh at 
them, sing them away, or whistle them away, or shout 
them away, or scream them out of sight. I'd drown 
them with joy. I'd shoot them and bayonet them with 
compulsory wit. 

" ' Hence ! to the realms of night, dire demon, hence ! 
Thy chains of adamant can bind 
That little world — the human mind, 
And chain its noblest power to impotence I ' 

"And then to think — 

" ( how many a glorious record, 
Had the Angels of me kept, 
Had I done instead of doubted, 
Had I warred instead of wept I ■ 

" Well, you have my opinions. I hope you will profit, 
and in your aspirations after endless knowledge and im- 
maculate perfection, not forget the Christian duty of 
wearing a cheerful face. Bless the world with smiles, C. 
Let your words and tones be silvery with pure joy. You 
have a right, bless God, to be happy. The world — 
without God and without hope — have not. God have 
mercy on them ! 

" If I did not make it a matter of principle to be 
happy, I should not always be so happy as I am. 



LETTERS — VACATION. 237 

All is well here, I am busy again, next time I will 
give you more news ; this is one of my lectures. Good 
night. 

" Your good-for-nothing brother, 

"A. K. N." 

" May 23. 

" I am still conscious largely of the strivings of the 
Spirit, sometimes, too, of a conquering Spirit in my 
heart. I think I hear God's voice. Great questions 
begin already to be pressing upon me, and I am made 
to feel the utter vanity of all worldly prudence, and to 
look only for the wisdom that cometh from above 

" The summer vacation — how shall I best apply to 
it the principles which I take for the regulation of my 
life ? The great future — in what direction will it 

open ? I am driven to my God Ah, I sometimes 

have thoughts, too sacred to be uttered, of a work — a 
great work — yet dim and dark — which I shall be 
suffered to enter into. I wait patiently on the Lord." 

The question of the employment of the summer 
vacation was not easily settled. Several churches sent 
in requests to him to supply them. 

" I have something of a fever to go West," he says. 
" It would certainly be a great satisfaction to my roving 
propensity, and might be of use to me in one day 
choosing my field of life-labor. But I do not find 
anything very holy in this desire." 

An invitation to supply the desk, or rather platform, 
at Tremont Temple, Boston, during some weeks, in the 



238 LETTERS — VACATION. 

absence of the pastor, Rev. I. S. Kalloch, who was his 
former schoolmate and friend, was finally accepted. The 
decision was made in deference to his father's wish to 
have him near home. 

The place was important, and for many reasons 
difficult to be occupied by a young student. 

" I am afraid some of my friends will think me fool- 
hardy," he says, " and perhaps vain ; but I have not 
sought the place, and do not propose to go in my own 

strength If I fail, it will very likely do me as 

much good as success, and perhaps a great deal more ! 
So I am sure of benefit in any case. 

" Help me to pray that I may go in the fear of God, 
and deliver His messages, supported by His power. . . . 
My responsibility and my risk I feel. I have no trust 
except in God." 

Nott preached at Tremont Temple six or seven suc- 
cessive Sabbaths, with great acceptance, and not with- 
out result. The congregation was maintained at its 
full ordinary number, notwithstanding the inevitable 
exodus of people into the country at that season of the 
year. The strangers and stragglers that were drawn 
in more than made up the losses. The Temple has an 
audience room of capacity for seating, at the maximum, 
three thousand persons. This room, in good weather, 
was comfortably filled, and sometimes packed. Public 
attention was more and more attracted to the young 
preacher. The highest encomiums were passed upon 



LETTERS — VACATION. 239 

his sermons by men best capable of forming a critical 
judgment, while the favorable suffrages of the mass 
were secured at once by his grace, simplicity, and 
earnestness. He preached with great boldness, " speak- 
ing the truth in love," not dizzied by applause, noi 
swerved by any " policy" proposed by the weak or the 
jealous. As formerly, the " All-Power" was with him ; 
the church felt the influence, and was quickened ; and 
there were a few conversions. Here also he followed 
his habit of making religious visits, and pleading with 
individuals. 



" Monday, Aug. 11, 1856. 
" My dear Father, 

" My fourth Sabbath has passed, completing one 

half of my allotted time in Boston. What a beautiful 

Sabbath God gave us yesterday! .... 

■ In the morning, I had not that fulness of soul and 

access in prayer which I have known at times when I 

have preached best, i.e. most effectively. But I wish 

you could have been with us in the afternoon. I 

changed my subject during intermission, as by the 

voice of the Spirit, taking a sermon that I preached a 

long time ago, and had almost forgotten. The con- 

gregation was the largest I ever saw, and furnished a 

splendid sight. I was granted the closest attention, 

and enjoyed speaking. Our evening meeting was by 

far the largest and most encouraging known vet. 

Christ seemed to pervade our hearts, in a remarkable 



240 LETTERS — VACATION. 

manner. He was the soul of every prayer, and of all 
that was said. The brethren seemed to have faith. It 

really appeared revival-like I am becoming 

more interested in my work 



"Aug. 13. 
" ' We are encouraged :' — so say all the church mem- 
bers who speak of the state of things. The congrega- 
tion is contantly increasing. Better than this, the vestry 
is rilling up, and life is infused into the meetings. Num- 
bers come in, who I find are strangers to all of us. 
Some of them have appeared very serious. O, if I could 
only get hold of them ! We see their faces, and they 

are off! But God seems ready to bless us By 

the grace of God I hope I may be able some time to 
preach better than I can now. Give me, O Lord, a 
work to do, a life to do it in, and grace to do it ! " 

" Aug. 18. 

"Yesterday I exchanged half the day I can 

hardly describe to you the relief and childish delight I 
felt in getting back, in the afternoon, to my good old 
Temple. I fairly laughed for joy. As I sat down on 
a free platform, having no excrescence of a pulpit upon 
it ; with my glorious choir behind me, and the front 
rank of my hearers so near that I could almost touch 
them, while the solid mass extended to the distant 
doors, — why I felt so inspired that I could not have 

helped speaking There was more feeling than I 

had seen before A gay girl met me on coming 

out, and at once spoke of the sermon. ' It brought the 



LETTERS — VACATION. 241 

tears and the prayer^ she said. Another I saw in the 
evening, and said to her, 'You have serious thoughts 
sometimes ; have you had any to-day V She immedi- 
ately answered, with deep feeling, ' I do not see how 
any one could help it !'•••- • Think — six weeks ago 
there were thirty at our evening meeting ; last evening 
there were more than a hundred. I believe the Spirit 
is working among us." .... 

The only drawback to his felicity was his loneliness. 
He lodged and studied in the empty house of Mr. 
Kalloch, and discovered something of the miseries of 
solitary imprisonment. "I must confess/' he says — 
" this fine house, amply furnished, of which I have the 
range from garret to cellar, but without so much as 
a cat or a canary to share possession, is becoming a 
prison. I wander through it — peep into every attic 
and open every closet, to see if I cannot find — some- 
thing or somebody. If the bell would only ring ! Twice 
I have run down stairs to the front door, but alas ! it 
was my neighbor's bell," etc 

The writer was present at the Temple on one of 
these Sabbaths. The afternoon discourse was from the 
text, u The wages of sin is death." It was an argument, 
to show the nature of the "death." The preacher's 
voice, expression, gesture, were evidently controlled 
solely by the absorbing solemnity of the theme. The 
chief characteristic of the discourse, as respects its com- 
position, was the steady, rapid, straight-onward, fearful 

21 



242 LETTERS — VACATION. 

march of the argument. The heart responded at each 
step, " true" " true" But — awful ! the premises in- 
volved a conclusion : — to that you were relentlessly 
forced : — there is a judgment — a second death — a Pit 
of Woe ! I sat where the whole audience, silent as the 
grave, were before me. I thought a pallor overspread 
the faces of many, and I said to myself, this is a Judg- 
ment Day, men's hearts failing them for fear ! Yet there 
was a pathos, as of restrained tears, in the speaker's 
voice, that awoke the tenderest emotions, and excited 
the slumbering longings of the soul for peace with God. 

At the close of his engagement at the Temple, Nott 
seized a week for a rapid excursion to the White 
Mountains. The party consisted of four, of whom the 
writer was one. Kingman was in the gayest spirits ; 
he shouted, sang, hurrahed, and kept us all in continual 
exhilaration. His power of physical endurance was 
astonishing. It was impossible thoroughly to weary 
him, or quench his ardor. After a long and exhausting 
ride, he insisted on making a push to the "Flume" by 
moonlight. From "Crawford's" he took an evening 
run to the top of the nearest mountain (that to which 
a carriage road conducts), while the rest of the party 
were glad enough of beds. In the course of the ascent 
of Mount Washington, which was pedestrian, two of the 
party had lingered behind, overcome with fatigue. 
Resuming their upward toil, and approaching the noted 



LETTEE — VACATION. 243 

"Lake of the Clouds," — a considerable basin of pure 
water a mile above the level of the sea, and as im- 
pregnable by the sun's heat as an Arctic glacier — they 
were surprised to hear a vigorous splashing in the 
almost icy waves, and running to look, beheld this wild 
contemner of the threats of Nature luxuriously swim- 
ming in the precious bath, with perspiration effectually 
checked, but loudly applauding his superior comfort 
and refreshment. Few have bathed in the Lake of the 
Clouds. Most would hesitate which to choose, that, or 
the bath of Empedocles in the crater of Etna. 

Returning from this excursion, K. had still time to 
give a Sabbath to Kennebunkport, and another to 
Boston, preaching this time for a new church at the 
South End, now known as the Thirteenth Baptist 
Church, of which Philip S. Evans, Kingman's classmate 
and friend, was the first pastor. 

A distinguished gentleman, who heard him on this 
occasion, remarked this in effect : " I had heard of this 
young preacher, and of the ' sensation ' that he pro- 
duced, but imagined he might be the possessor simply 
of certain showy and superficial gifts, sufficient only to 
gain a transient popularity. I listened, therefore, with 
critical ears, and I was obliged to confess, at the close 
of the day, that I had not for years heard more power- 
ful sermons." 

Thus everywhere the impression grew, that K. was 
destined to some important service for the Redeemer. 



CHAPTER XXIII. 

Second Year — Letters — Visit to the Broome St. 
Church, etc. 

This year was occupied with the study of theology 
proper, and was peculiarly delightful aud profitable to 
Kingman. 

It is also the year that closed his preparatory course 
and introduced him to the final stage of his too brief 
but happy and useful life. 

Much has already been indicated respecting King- 
man's conception of the solemn responsibility belonging 
to the work of preaching. Two or three letters setting 
this in a still more impressive light, could not justly be 
omitted. 

It has been stated that after his return from the 
White Mountains, one Sabbath was spent at Kenne- 
bunkport. His sermons on that day, though not want- 
ing in the usual rhetorical power or fluency, or in anima- 
tion, yet were pervaded with a manner that was unusual, 
a certain flippancy and apparent indifference to results. 
" There is no power in K.'s sermons to-day," remarked 
his father to a member of the family. " His heart is 
not enlisted. K. can do nothing unless his heart is 
right. I must write him a letter about keeping his heart* 



SECOND YEAR — LETTERS. 245 

The letter was written, and this was the reply — 
showing his humility and right aims : — 

■ Sep. 26, 1856. 
" Dear Father : 

. ..." I am greatly ashamed and distressed over 
the wholesome rebuke contained in your letter. Per- 
haps it is better that I suffer in silence, and endeavor to 
make my heart right with God. I feel the truth of 
what you say. I did feel it at the time, and I knew 
the causes of it. Yet I was disposed, while conscious 
of not having fully discharged my duty, to pass it over 
as a trivial matter. But now I am alarmed to see that 
I have committed a great sin, and I beg you to pray 
the Lord with me that I may be forgiven. Some 
foolish liftings-up in Boston, and more than all, a week 
of most thorough dissipation in pleasure-travelling, 
with the excitement of expecting an immediate return 
to Rochester, had wholly unfitted me for preaching 
for you," etc., etc. 

He adds : — " I am now as thoroughly in the midst 
of study as ever in my life ; yet the most of it is of a 
nature exciting rather than dissipating to religious 
thought. Besides this, I have determined to devote 
some time each day to purely devotional reading ; I 
find it as profitable as any study. Arthur's ' Tongue of 
Fire' has done me much good in enlarging my faith in 
the practical power of the Holy Spirit. A Kempis' 
4 Imitation of Christ ' affords me delightful daily food. 
I am finding great satisfaction in a more critical study 
of the Scriptures in private. Some new light dawns 
upon me every day. I have taken Paul's Epistles to 
21* 



246 SECOND YEAR — LETTERS. 

Timothy as especially appropriate to me at this time," 
etc. 

A little later he laments a fault similar to that above 
confessed. 

TO HIS FATHER. 

" Nov. 30, 1856. 

"I have been for two Sabbaths past at B . This 

is the first preaching I have performed for some time. 
My heart was not prepared for the work, and I am 
afraid I preached somewhat as I did at home, when 
last I was there. / look now on such sermons as among 
the greatest crimes of my life, I hope God has given 
me grace to weep over them and repent," etc 

" Among the greatest crimes of my life ! " Such is 
not always the feeling of ministers when their sermons 
are faultless, except for the trifling defect of heart- 
lessness ! 

At another time K. is refusing a certain tempting 
proposal : — 

" It would not be right," says he, " and so I will 
not ; because it is not well to do what is not right, and 
because I have found that when I am to preach, I am 
beset with some special temptation. When I yield to 
it I am shorn of my strength. I can talk, rant, make 
an oration, but I cannot preach. I have come to the 
conclusion, that if I am to preach, I must keep my 
heart. I pray the good Lord to teach me entirely His 
will." 



SECOND YEAR — LETTERS. 247 

Miscellaneous letters follow. 

R. T. S., October 1, 1856. 
"Dear Mother: 

" My religion daily becomes more precious to me, 
and I think that the grace of God is bringing me to 
that point where I shall be able either to endure afflic- 
tion or practise self-denial for Christ's sake. Of neither 
have I known anything as yet. My life's work, I doubt 
not, will be abundantly fraught with both ; but what 
that is to be remains as yet a mystery. I fear of mis- 
taking here ; I fear that I may choose for myself and 
not for Christ I cannot thrust the subject from my 
thoughts, though it assumes as yet so undefined a shape. 
I gladly commit its future shaping into the hands of 
Infinite Wisdom. 

" We have had another of our most delightful college 
meetings. These differ from any other meetings I have 
ever known. We are so exactly on a level, and in such 
thorough sympathy, that all restraint seems broken 
down. Men do not seem to talk or pray for the sake 
of performing an exercise, but for the simple expression 
of feeling. The morning meetings of the city continue 
increasing now in interest and numbers. They are a 
great delight to me. 

" I had a pleasant Sabbath at Auburn. The day was 
fine, and some of my very pleasant friends there seemed 
glad to see me. I preached a new sermon from Luke 
iii. 16, on the Baptism of the Holy Spirit. Some of the 
thoughts were newly presented to my own mind, and 
have done me good. It is sad to see a large church in 
a fine city, with its membership scattering, its congre- 



i 



248 SECOND YEAR LETTERS. 

gation falling off, its prayer-meetings declining, and its 
spirituality dying out, for the want of a pastor. 

" Well, we shall have fourteen ready — the Lord wil- 
ling — in some months ; but, like the five loaves for the 
five thousand, what are they among so many. One 
thing the churches may be assured of — if these-to-be 
pastors all imbibe the spirit, and catch the zeal, and 
obey the teachings of our instructors in Theology, they 
will certainly be at least pure and faithful men. 

" Yours," etc. 

The next letter suggests the first hint of what was in 
reality, though unsuspectedly to him, the advancement 
of destiny ; the shadow of the future beginning to as- 
sume definiteness, at least to our eye, who have seen 
that whole future unfold, and move backward into the 

past. 

" Rochester, October 9, 1856. 

" Dear Father : 

" A matter has come up, which you will naturally 

expect me to mention to you. I wish to refer it to you 

for confidential advice. It is an invitation from the 

First Church, New York, to supply them one Sabbath. 

What do you think of it ? Of course it is only as a 

supply; they have had fifty such. I do not like to 

answer until I hear from you 



"October 11 
"Dear Mother: 

..." I have decided to go down to N. Y. next 
week, in answer to the invitation of the First Church. 



SECOND YEAR — LETTERS. 249 

You will probably mark it as one of those special 
favors which an almost over-indulgent Providence 
seems to delight in bestowing upon me, that I should 
have this opportunity of attending without expense the 
meetings of the American Board. The Anniversary is 
at Newark," etc. 

In the following letter he describes his first visit to 
the Broome Street people and his impressions. 

"Rochester, Nov. 4, 1856. 
" Dear Father : 

" Well, I have been to New York I have 

now seen various fields of labor, and am ready in con- 
clusion to go wherever the Lord shall choose to send 
me. I think there is very little choice of places — ex- 
cept to go where the Lord designs 

" I preached twice on Sunday, to about eight hundred 
people, and attended prayer-meeting. I could not 
quite drive out from the pulpit the ghost of Dr. Oone, 
so that I got along only tolerably. 

"They are a good people — a * lovely church' — 
strong, united, social, old-fashioned, and stiff. They 
are 100 years old, preserve the old forms of doctrine, 
which 1 like, and have had in that time four pp^tors 
and three church clerks. 

" They use ' Watts and Eippon ' yet, have no mu 
sical instruments whatever, sing quite generally over 
the house, and at the close of each service rise and 
join unanimously in a doxology — always selecting one 
that has not i Ghost' in it. Tuesday evening, I at- 
tended the weekly 'lecture,' and Friday the prayer- 



250 SECOND YEAR — LETTERS. 

meeting again. They pray well and sing good old- 
style songs, such as ' How tedious and tasteless the 
hftur,' l The Lord into his garden comes.' 

"I spent Tuesday and Wednesday at the Newark 
meetings, enjoying them very much. It was a great 
satisfaction to hear and see men, whose names had 
always been household words to me. The views de- 
veloped by the discussions were very instructive to me, 
and the whole spirit manifested was one of concord, 
love, and missionary zeal 

" Well — the expected preacher for the following Sun- 
day failed to come — so I was stoutly besieged to stay 
another Sabbath ; and, as it seerned providential, I 
could not well refuse. Sunday was a beautiful day, we 
had 1000 people present, to whom I preached with 
more freedom, though upon less thorough preparation 
than the previous week. In the afternoon I sat down 
to communion with a much larger number, than ever 
before in my life. It was a refreshing season. Our 
evening prayer-meeting was delightful. I was intro- 
duced to scores of persons, who almost shook my 
hands off, and loaded me with good wishes. Monday 
morning I took an early start, and was here at evening. 
So I have had, you see, quite an episode, and am laden 
ao'ain with extra bounties. 

" I do not think there is any creature, whom the 
Lord seems to favor more than me. It is a constant; 
wonder to me. May he also vouchsafe to me all 
grace ! 

" Your affectionate son," etc. 



SECOND YEAE LETTEES. 251 

Several following extracts show how, as the sense of 
coming responsibilities increased, there were mental 
strifes and forebodings : 

"BOCHESTER, NoV. 12. 

"Dear C: 

" How soon I shall be compelled to say, Farewell 
to the life of a recluse, farewell to light-heartedness ; 
welcome busy strife, welcome heavy care ! If I could 
have my own way, I would give another year to study ; 
and it may yet appear to be the Lord's way, but it 
looks differently now. 

" ( Ready for either.' I rejoice in what you say of 
your desires respecting the future ministry in which 
the Lord may permit me to engage. I trust they are 
my own heart's wishes, and I am thankful that I am 
not surrounded by false friends to nourish my worldly 
ambition. Providence seems to have led me through 
a considerable range of different fields of labor — the 
large and the small — to peep, at least, at each. My 
conclusion is that the fascinations, in most cases, lie in 
the enchantment of distance and of name. The Law 
of Compensation works, and makes most essentially 
alike. 

" My visit to New York was pleasant in every pos- 
sible particular, and the recollections of it afford me 
the greatest satisfaction. Since returning, I have kept 
very quietly at home. To-morrow I address the 

students of the M Collegiate Institute, at their 

closing exercises. I just begin to be troubled about it ; 
I have done scarcely anything in preparation. Posi- 
tively I am, for the time, thoroughly theologized, I 



252 SECOND YEAR — LETTERS. 

think of nothing, morning, day, and night, but doc- 
trines, preaching, etc. I cannot succeed in turning 
my thoughts to anything that is literary alone," etc. 

" November 30. 
" Dear Father, 

" My heart and mind have been occupied to find 
out what it is to preach. I do not feel that I have ever 
yet fully known. The Lord is leading me. Last Satur- 
day He gave me a little light. I was able to humble 
myself in part, just a little ; and on the Sabbath, the 
Lord blessed me as he has not for a long time. The 
holy influence is with me yet. My heart, for many 
months callous and cold, and that increasingly, has at 
length been touched by the finger of the Lord. Now, 
I can feel a little. My tongue has been loosed in prayer. 
I could weep as I prayed, and as I preached ; but it is 
only a little. Pray that the Lord will humble me 
entirely ; I want to be broken up completely. Oh ! 
how utterly unfit for my work ! — Of its magnitude, 
of its nature, and of my responsibility, I have had 
not an idea. It is looming up. I just begin to get a 
glimpse, and am overwhelmed. O, may the Lord lead 
me farther into his secret counsels ! I have some dim 
ideas ; O Lord, enlarge and clarify them ! My heart 
is touched ; O break it with thy love ! Let self melt 
away, O Lord, and Christ possess me! O, this is a 
great problem which I have to work out. Lord, Lord, 
open it before me, and lead me to its solution ! I 
almost shrink from the future, which is pressing upon 
me. May your prayers, in your son's behalf, be an- 
swered." .... 



SECOXD YEAR LETTERS. 253 

" December 2±th, 1856. 



" My Dearest C : 

"I have been trying to pray. T feel my- 
self a helpless, worthless sinner. I thank God, through 
Jesus Christ, I am not in hell. I never can sufficiently 
praise His sovereign grace which redeemed me. Why 
He saw fit to have pity upon me, I cannot tell. Life is 
crowding upon me like a Juggernaut. A few years of 
crushing and all will be over. It seems very short and 
very vain. Were it not for the hope of being purified 
by trial, and thus made more meet for the inheritance 
of the saints in light, and the hope of winning souls to 
Christ, I would like to lay me down this night and 
awake in heaven. But I would rather wait and toil, 
and then go with a crown studded thick with jewels, 
which God has given me. 

" Well, I am changing ; I feel it every day. I shall 
never be what I have been; and, for the most part, it is 
well. I wish I could change entirely; I sometimes get 
a glimpse of what I would like to be. 

" Yours," etc. 

Thus, every man, who is to be fitted for great 
labors of love, must pass through his Gethsemane. 



22 



CHAPTER XXIV. 

Call to First Church — Letters. 

The consultations, on the part of members of the 
Broome Street Church among themselves, were now in 
progress that resulted in the calling of Kingman Nott 
to the vacant pastorship of that church. The post had 
been unoccupied for more than a year. Many causes 
made it a difficult place to fill. The last incumbent 
had been Cons. When he died, he left interests that 
still seemed bound indissolubly to his hand, and a 
people who, if they had been Papists, would have 
canonized him. The affections that had flowed so long 
in one channel refused to be suddenly diverted. Be- 
sides, Dr. Cone had been a man of such force and 
intellectual height, as to have constituted himself, to 
some degree, a standard of judging and thinking among 
his people : he was the measure by which they mea- 
sured opinions and men. The first thought concerning 
every new candidate, thus was, Is he like Cone ? Preach- 
er after preacher had stood in Dr. Cone's pulpit, but 
not one, to the people's eye, stood up to the dimen- 
sions of the man — or rather, was the man, for not 
equality alone, but identity of gifts was sought. More 



CALL TO FIRST CHURCH — LETTERS. 255 

than fifty, including some of the brightest lights of the 
land, had gleamed from the desk, and still the people 
were unmoved. 

Meanwhile the church began to suffer. The congre- 
gation, though remarkably steadfast, began to decrease, 
and the Sunday School to decline. Numbers of irre- 
ligious youth, children of converted parents, were be- 
coming confirmed as well in the habit of wandering 
from the venerable mother-church, as in impenitence. 
A pastor was indispensable. Yet the question had 
come to be asked despairingly all through the denomi- 
nation, "Who can be the standard-bearer of the Old 
First ?" But the church had faith and works, and so 
were sure in the end of God's blessing. They sustained 
all their meetings with energy, and established besides 
an extraordinary weekly meeting, for the express pur 
pose of praying for a pastor. 

Another cause limited the number from which a 
selection could be made. They were lovers of truth, 
and of truth as they understood it. They knew with 
precision what they believed, and they, of course, and 
very justly, tested every preacher by their religious 
sooner than by theii literary creed. Literary blemishes 
they might endure ; a heretical taint, never. They 
braced themselves with all their might against the fatal 
proclivity of the age to laxity in doctrine, and would 
not be mocked with sentimentalisms in place of sharp 
<\ruth, or bewildered by any dazzling pyrotechnics of 



256 CALL TO FIRST CHUECH — LETTERS. 

rhetoric : they would be unmoved even by the heavv 
boom of logic, if the ammunition was not plainly taken 
from the arsenal of truth. Their preacher must be 
first good, then sound — then simple, clear, and earnest 
— then a man alive and energetic — then, please God, 
eloquent and able to be " popular." This was their 
scale, not so much in theory as in practice. Primness 
of garb, a melodious voice, an imposing manner — even 
the gifts of fluent and fervid rhetoric, that are so often 
the secret or open demand of congregations, were not 
so much as thought of by this people, as positive 
desiderata. 

It was now clearly perceived, by the wise of the 
church, that to fix upon any man of such age and 
acknowledged standing as to occupy a position at once 
marked and independent, and to have a right to chal- 
lenge a comparison on his own merits with their late 
lamented leader, was simply impossible. Agreement on 
such a person was out of the question, while for a minis- 
ter to accept a muttered call, given with a look askance, 
and a scowl contending with the smile, was suicidal. 
Pushed by the exigency, they turned and saw light in 
another direction. A young man, if one of the right 
qualities could be found, might come in and do them 
good. As nobody would think of elevating him to 
Cone's pedestal, so he would enjoy the advantage of 
standing on a pedestal of his own ; he would be inde- 
pendent, untrammelled, and have ample scope to do his 



CALL TO FIRST CHURCH — LETTERS. 257 

own, peculiar work. If he should prove deficient in 
the gift of management, there were wise deacons. If 
he should not be the ideal preacher, he might still have 
excellences, and " save our young people." With these 
thoughts, they had first sent for the young Kingman 
Nott to supply them. 

His preaching had, in every essential respect, secured 
their unanimous approval. He was sound, be was 
earnest and simple, he had fluency, he spoke without 
notes, and besides, had a thousand nameless and 
unartificial fascinations of manner that caught the in- 
different and the young, and fixed their attention to 
the truth that was illumined, and not disguised, by 
these graces. His social qualities also gained their 
liking — his free, cordial, unembarrassed, and manly 
manners. They felt, almost unreasoningly, that he 
had also the traits of a leader, and was capable of inspir- 
ing heroism in his followers. His devotion to Christ 
they were sure was genuine. In the course of this first 
visit he had one day stepped into the counting-room 
of a merchant, a member of the church, but whose 
partner was unconverted. Receiving an introduction 
to the latter, and passing the ordinary compliments, he 
did not bow himself out of the store without first in- 
quiring of the gentleman respecting the safety of his 
soul. "Who is that young man?" said the unconverted 
partner after he had gone out; "did you say he w T as 
supplying your pulpit ? ThaPs the pastor I want ; ob- 

22* 



258 CALL TO FIRST CHURCH — LETTERS. 

tain him ; he believes his religion." This was univer- 
sally the impression. 

One day, about the first of December, two gentlemen 
rode in a close carriage up to the door of Professor R., 
in Rochester. " They came as if they were detectives 
in search of a convict!" They were ushered into the 
library. Prof. R. entered. " We must see nobody but 
yourself and Mr. Nott. First, we wish to confer with 
you. As a question of policy, what do you think of 
our inviting that young man to be the pastor of the 
First Church ? Would he succeed ?" " I think there 
would be no risk." " Has he the requisite talents, in 
variety as well as in degree?" "In my opinion he has." 
"But could he bear the labor? Would it not strain his 
powers and speedily exhaust him ?" " No, he is like 
an india-rubber ball ; throw him down and he'll rebound ; 
bend him, and he'll spring back like a hickory sapling ; 
his energy is inexhaustible." 

They went in search of Mr. Nott, and were closeted 
with him. The interview was productive of nothing 
important. Mr. Nott had an engagement in Boston. 
He had promised to preach a Sunday or two at the 
Canton Street Church at Christmas, and meant to go 
there untrammelled. 

To Christmas time we now pass. 

"Boston, December 22d f 1856. 
" Dear Father : 

" I arrived here Saturday evening, after a comfort- 



CALL TO FIKST CHURCH — LETTERS. 259 

able ride. We had a pleasant day at Canton Street, 
yesterday, though I went feeling quite oppressed by 
distracting cares and the perplexities of the week. 
Some of my former Temple people were with us. 
Among them, right before me, were the shining eyes 
of the new convert that the Lord gave us just before 

my leaving, as a seal of his special favor The 

people would press me to a decision this week. If I 
get through with this matter without sinning, and am 
guided to a decision on which I shall rest with an as- 
surance of God's approval, I shall be grateful all my 
life. I do not know when I have felt so helpless. I 
never, since I became a Christian, needed your prayers 
and those of all who love me, and love Christ's cause, 
as I do now. The responsibility is crushing. Did it 
regard myself alone, it would be of less importance. 
But the cause of Christ — that I love — is concerned. 
May the Lord show me His will. I wish almost every 
hour of the day that you were here. This is indeed a 
great field. I feel above all human advice. I painfully 
realize that the case is beyond their judgment," etc., 
etc. 

TO HIS FATHER. 

" Rochester, Dec. 30, 1856. 
. . . . " With the surroundings I had in Boston, I 
stood, of course, in need of a degree of watchfulness 
that I had never before known. I think it was a means 
of grace to me, for as I never more completely felt my 
dependence on heavenly wisdom, so now, in looking 
back, I am sure that I am guided and aided by a power 



260 CALL TO FIRST CHURCH — LETTERS. 

above. My mind, for a time distracted by the very 
novelty of responsibility, soon rested in God, and at the 
last of the week I could praise the Lord, who had 
brought me out of my perplexity into a large place and 
a clear. I have many dear friends in B. I could be 
happy in spending my life with them. But my course 
was made perfectly clear to me, and the result I am 
willing to leave with God. I am sure to be satisfied. 
The good brethren and sisters in Boston love me, and I 
love them. But I have been perfectly frank with them, 
they have admitted the justice of my position, and I 
rejoice in being confident that, whatever the result, 
there will be no reflections cast and they will love me 
none the less." .... 

The First Church in New York, at a meeting held on 
the 29th of December, L856, unanimously voted a call 
to Mr. Nott. The letter of the church was conveyed 
to him on the 1st of January, 1857, and elicited the fol- 
lowing reply — implying an acceptance. A number of 
other letters follow in succession. 

TO DR. DEVAN, OF NEW YORK. 

Kochester, Theol. Sem., January 2, 1857. 
" My Dear Dr. Devan : 

" I need not tell you that I have soberly reflected 
on the subject left with me for consideration. 1 feel 
this evening prepared, after seeking divine guidance, to 
decide for your people all that may now be necessary. 

"The Lord willing, I shall be glad to come and 
preach to your young people their annual sermon. 



CALL TO FIRST CHURCH — LETTERS. 261 

"I shall at that time be able to convey to your people 
my decision, and what I trust may be the Lord's deci- 
sion upon this solemn call. Meanwhile I will hint to 
you one or two thoughts that have occurred to me. 

"I have considered most the judgment which you 
gave as the judgment of the church, that, in case of 
acceptance, I could best serve them by supplying them 
occasionally between this and the time of actual settle- 
ment. I have now time onlv to sav that mv thoughts 
so' lead me back to my first impression, that I am now 
firmly convinced that such a course would be not only 
without special advantage, but an aggravation and essen- 
tially disastrous to both parties. My reasons I can un- 
fold more fully when I see you. Meanwhile this, so that 
no false anticipations may be raised. I know eight months 
is long to ask your church to wait. I do not dare to ask 
it. Yet I cannot be ready for such duties sooner if I 
must assume them," etc. 

" Rochester, Jan. 10, 1857. 
" My Dear Dr. Devax, 

" Many thanks for your kind note of the 5th inst. 
The preaching service for the third Lord's Day of the 
month seems satisfactorily arranged, I am much obliged 
to you for the additional week. 

" I think you do not quite understand my feeling 
with regard to the matter of the vacation. In fact, it 
was strongly against my own feelings that I made any 
allusion to the subject ; when I did, my attention was 
fixed, not so much on the amount as on the necessity 
of a vacation of some length. I suggested the matter, 
I will confess, not of my own idea, but as urged upon 



262 CALL TO FIRST CHURCH — LETTERS. 

me by my friends. I blushed to do it at all 

A ' demand ' my dear Dr., I should never make. Such 
stipulations I should never think of incorporating into 
a call, or the acceptance of a call. They argue and 
promote a mutual want of confidence. 

" Perhaps you do not fully know me yet. I some- 
times think that your church are taking more upon 
trust, in their late action, than most would be willing to 
do. But this very fact makes me love them more. 
Whether I shall possess ' less interest in their welfare,' 
or betray less ' anxiety to labor,' than any one else, re- 
mains yet to be manifested. At present, I can only speak 
of a full heart and earnest purposes, with a reliance on 
God's grace. 

"I have not forgotten that it is your custom to offer 
special prayer for the Spirit's blessing on the Annual 
Sermon to the Young. May God, for this time, give 
you a special unction, and enable you to prevail in 
prayer," * * * * * 

" Rochester, Jan. 14, 1857. 
" My Dear Father : 

" I was very glad to hear from you this morning 
by your kind letter. Your counsel and sympathy do 
me great good ; and I am always relieved by being 
assured of your continued life and health. 

"There is something about the form of that call to 
New York, which to me is striking and solemn. The 
same godly spirit has pervaded all their intercourse 
with me, and made me feel that God was in the whoK 
Sometimes I tremble at what I have already done, and 
start back as if I were about to make a fatal plunge. 



CALL TO FIRST CHURCH LETTERS. 263 

Were I conscious that I bad deliberately done anything 
to bring about the present juncture of affairs, I should 
not dare to take this step. But, feeling as I do, that it 
has all been beyond my control, I will trust the hand 
that has thus far unerringly guided me, and follow 
where it points. 

" Of course, I have thought of little else for the 
month past, and now conjectures and half-formed plans 
for the future are busying my brain. Still, I have felt 
inclined to say very little about the subject. Both the 
excellences of the position and its difficulties are, I know ? 
not comprehended by me at present. I am surprised 
at my own coolness. 

" Yet, while I shall love to think of my future home 
and vineyard and work, I am resolved not to be in the 
least degree distracted from my present preparatory 
pursuits. Under the reflected light of opening life, my 
heart and mind are revealing their glaring deficiencies 
to me, as I have never seen them before. The thought 
that I must be reconciled to these, as now past cure, is 
insupportable to me : I pray for grace to rise once more 
in desperate and victorious conflict with them. 0, how 
I ought to, how I must grow in acquirements, in disci- 
pline, and more than all in grace, before I shall be fit 
to enter on my work ! How specially devoted ought 
such an one to be ! 

" The church and I are to come into severe, though 
I trust not serious, collision on one point. They wish 
me to supply their pulpit once in two or three, or, at 
the very farthest, four weeks ; so that they may feel 
that they have a pastor, and that we may prosecute a 
mutual acquaintance. I have become so convinced of 



264 CALL TO FIRST CHURCH — LETTERS. 

the folly of this, that I shall be forced to decline doing 
so, and, if necessary, even make it a condition (and the 
only condition) of acceptance, that I am not to be called 
upon for any service till the 1st of September. 

" I go down to New York to-morrow night, to visit 
my beloved people ; preach the Annual Sermon to the 
Young, and give my answer to their solemn call. Mon- 
day or Tuesday, I shall try to go to Boston for one day, 
returning directly from there on Wednesday or Thurs- 
day to Rochester. Is not this best ? 

" So soon as I know more about my good church, I 
will write you of it. Meanwhile, I send her Articles of 
Faith. . . . Much love." . . 

" New York, Jan. 19, 1857. 
" My Dear Father : 

" We are having what I call a * splendid,' what 
New-Yorkers call a ' terrific ' snow-storm. The great 
city is blockaded, and all who can be are housed. I 
have accomplished three calls, and made my way down 
town Now I am writing in my host's store. 

" I had a hard journey from Rochester, and found 
myself in poor condition for Sunday. It was a bad 
day, but the house was filled full. I had some diffi- 
culties. I had discovered that my unlucky coat-linings 
were torn, so I tore them out. I lifted up my arm and 
found the white showing. So I stuffed one of the coat- 
linings (being black) under the coat-arm. That was 
very good, and so I went to church. I was flanked 
by a minister on either side. I went on pretty well, 
when I suddenly discovered that the wretched ' coat- 
lining ' had both escaped from its service and was run- 



CALL TO FIRST CHURCH — LETTERS. 265 

ning out at the wrist. I tucked it up, but thencefor- 
ward my right arm was imprisoned. Just then, for the 
first time, my eye fell on a rogue of a reporter just be- 
neath me, who was scratching away, just as though I 
was saying something. So pretty soon I stopped, said 
1 failure ' to myself, and sat down. 

" So my prayer i to be humbled ' has been answered, 

and I remember Dr. L and bless God. I sought 

His face and found him, and preached in the afternoon 
with a delightful calmness and trust in God, and felt 
greatly blessed. We were obliged to dispense with the 
evening meeting on account of the storm. I shall get 
away as soon as the snow will allow. I wish I could 
write more. God is with me. Good bye. 

" Your affectionate Son, 

» A. K. N." 

''Rochester, Jan. 29, 1857. 

" My Dear Dr. Devax : 

" Since I got successfully back from X. Y., I am 
daily convinced of the wisdom of our decision, that my 
visits to you should be like angels', so far as regards 
frequency. Really, I find myself pining, like an absent 
lover (i. e. as I suppose an absent lover would pine), for 
my church. It is the first thing by morning and the 
last by night. It follows me into my dreams, and pur- 
sues me through the dav. So vou see it is well that 
the snow-blockade did not longer imprison me, and 
well that I do not look upon you until April. On the 
one hand shrinking by reason of conscious unfitness, 
and on the other hand burning with desire to enter the 

23 



266 CALL TO FIRST CHURCH — LETTERS. 

lists at once, I am in a continual contest with myself. 
But I must try to forget you, and yet remember yon. 
.... It is painful to me that I cannot let the church 
know how greatly I love them, and how much I am 
willing to do for them. But if God will, the time will 
come," .... 

" Jan. 30. 
" My Dear R : 

" I called on Mrs. in Brooklyn the other day. 

She talked of my prospects in New York, and said : 
' Ah ! how your mother must feel at this time ! ' It 
struck me strangely. I forgot for the moment present 
blessings, and could think only of the mother of our 

infancy and birth. Mr. ***** 

talked with me two hours or more the other day, then 
suddenly exclaiming, i Nott, I feel like praying with 
you ! ' — dropped on his knees. He rose, walked to the 
window, looked out, and said — ' Nott, our mothers were 
remarkable women !'".... 



TO S. T. HILLMAN, OF N. Y. 

" Rochester, Feb. 21, 1851. 
" My Dear Bro. Hillman : 

" I suspect that you business men acquire a habit 
of more promptness in correspondence than some of 
us are apt to possess. But however destitute I may 
seem myself to be of this quality, I assure you I have 
no dulness in appreciating it. 

" During the weeks passed since your kind letter, I 
have been very often reminded of you, even by the 



CALL TO FIRST CHURCH — LETTERS. 267 

very duties that have hindered rne from writing ; for 
the topic of our class lectures and discussions has 
providentially been that same blessed doctrine of" Pro- 
vidence, which struck the key-note to your epistle. We 
concluded that the Christian was the object of God's 
special care, and that every event, whether in the life of 
nations or of individuals, whether vast or apparently in- 
significant, was directed by Him and made subservient 
to His purposes of grace. But I rejoice that I, have 
not been dependent for the learning of this doctrine on 
a theological course. My own life, wonderful proba- 
bly to no one but myself, has been a constant com- 
mentary upon it, and has enforced and illustrated it 
to me as no human teacher could ever do. Where, 
without it, were the perseverance of the saints? 
Where our comfort in the midst of adversity? 
Where the final and glorious triumph of Christ's king- 
dom ? . . . 

" I need not say that I think of you all every day, 
and remember you in all my prayers. I hope that the 
church may be preserved from the sin of deferring 
earnest activity in saving souls, and growing in grace to 
a future time and more favorable circumstances. I trust 
that great advance may yet be made, before you have 
a settled pastor. I ardently desire that both parties 
may be fully prepared to enter at once into the hottest 
of the fight, when we join hands. To do this, I need 
a very great advance in spiritual knowledge and zeal, 
and in every grace. For this I am trying to pray. 
And you, too, pray for me. In this I rejoice. On 
Friday evenings, too ! That is just the evening on 
which those of us here who are looking forward to the 



268 CALL TO FIRST CHURCH — LETTERS. 

ministry, meet to pray that the Master will fit us for 
our work. So you see that you do not pray alone, for 

M ■ Though sundered far, by faith we meet 
Around one common mercy seat.' " 

11 February 23. 
" The conduct of the church has surprised and de- 
lighted me. Their absolute confidence in me is almost 
preposterous. Moreover, you will, I am sure, be 
pleased to know that it is their desire that I keep clear 
from all public societies, and give myself exclusively to 
the church. Indeed, who cannot see that any other 

course would be suicidal ? Dear R , I hope you 

will pray much for me, that I may be fitted for my 
mission to the young people of that congregation. 
4 We are dropping off, and we want some one to come 
and save our children !' say the good old people to 
me." . . . 



TO DR. DEVAN. 

"February 23. 
" On the foreign mission subject I am becoming inte- 
rested, though I do not feel competent to express an 
opinion. Amended the Miss. Union may be ; but 
could you think of seeing it abandoned ? I do hope 
that the May Anniversary may unite the divided hearts 
of our brethren, and we go about the better business 
of saving men from perdition. This is what I want 
to see — men saved. I am glad that you cast your 
influence against precipitate measures. It would seem 



CALL TO FIRST CHURCH — LETTERS. 269 

that Baptist history for the last six years should have 
taught to all of us that lesson. Do you not think it is 
wrong to withhold funds from the Union on account 
of its troubles or even its faults ? It seems to me un- 
wise, not to say ungenerous. Let us stand by the 
Union till our debts are paid off. 

"To leave it in the lurch at such a crisis has a sus- 
picious look about it. Even if we were to abandon it, 
it seems to me that we ought first to do our share 
towards relieving its pecuniary embarrassments. 

" I should greatly enjoy being present next Lord's 
Day to see you baptize those new converts. Especially 
do I rejoice with you and Mrs. D. in this mercy of God 
to one of our own kindred. I shall be glad if you 
may find opportunity to assure these lambs of our 
flock, of my deep interest and earnest prayers in their 
behalf. May God keep them !".... 

"Bochester, Feb. 28. 
" Dear Mother : 

..." Now you must not blame me altogether 
if I was dumb on the question that most interested you, 
during the two short days of utter bewilderment, which 
constituted my last visit home. Beyond a few words 
to father, my lips were sealed against the utterance of 
4 First Baptist Church, New York? both while wan- 
dering about at home and during all that painful week 
in Boston, even until the whole matter was irrevocably 
settled, some days after my return to Rochester. It 
may be I was wrong. But I felt as I did during that 
silent week in January, seven years ago, when I wan- 
dered about from attic to sitting-room, and.from sitting- 
23 



270 CALL TO FIRST CHURCH — LETTERS. 

room to attic, transacting business with Jehovah, and 
settling my eternal destiny. 

" My room-mate, who is free and confiding, accuses 
me of living within myself, and having some talent for 
keeping my own 'counsel.' Is it so? Has the tattling 
boy come to this ? I should be rather disposed to con- 
gratulate myself if I believed him, for it is some satis- 
faction even to change one fault for another. 

" Your letter of three weeks ago came in good com- 
pany. The first one that I opened that morning was 
in a strange hand, and called my attention to a Sabbath 

spent by me in B , some weeks ago ; expressing 

earnest anxiety for salvation, and saying, c If I am ever 
saved, it will be through your instrumentality.' . , . 
Well, thought I, ' In the morning sow thy seed, in the 
evening withhold not thy hand, for thou knowest not 
whether shall prosper, this or that.' 

"And so I opened the second letter, which was in 
the hand of a dear old friend of Suffield days, now a 
Yale student I had not heard from him for a long 
time. l Do you remember,' he began, ' writing to a cer- 
tain friend a year ago, and in that letter saying, "Flee 
to Christ P That friend has done it ! And you asked 
too, "Are you a pardoned sinner?" I answer, Yes? 
So it went on with the rejoicings of a new convert for 
six pages. Well, thought I, — and I began to wonder 
and be humbled — i Cast thy bread upon the waters, and 
thou shalt find it after many days.' 

" Well, mother, so you see the ' church that is in our 
house, is about to lose one of its members." 

He was about removing his church relation from Ken- 
nebunkport to New York. 



CALL TO FIRST CHURCH — LETTERS. 271 

" It seems almost like going out of the church quies- 
cent into the church militant. I do not know what is 
before me, nor do I care to know what else may be, so 
long as the cloud and pillar of fire are. There are, as 
you would easily suppose, a great many head-shakers, 
and not a few evil prophets. Were you to believe 
some of them, you would resign yourself at once to the 
prospect of seeing your son drop out of sight — before 
the 50's of this nineteenth century are done — either 
into insignificance — or the grave. Diligent newspaper 
correspondents assure the public that the young gen- 
tleman in question is 'young — very young' — 'young 
and wholly inexperienced — and the field of labor hard. 1 
Good! The Lord, I have noticed, likes to do 'hard' 
things, and even to do them by feeble, ' weak' things. 
I do not think any of us can be more sensible than one 
paper, which remarks that the question of the young- 
brother's probable success or failure is very freely dis- 
cussed, not only in New York city, but in the interior 
towns of the state, and many are ready at once to pro- 
phesy,' etc. etc. And then adds : c And, indeed, it would 
not be strange if some of these prophecies should 
prove to be true,' 1 think so ! 

" If I rain down upon you in April (April showers 
soon pass away — they do not stay even 'two days') I 
must bring you some of my good letters from New 
York. I am impatient for you to get acquainted with 
the dear brethren and sisters of this ' lovely church.' . . 
"Your loving Son, * "K." 



272 CALL TO FIRST CHURCH — LETTERS. 

" March 6. 
" Dearest C : 



" The other day I went to my desk to help myself 
to a fresh supply of my correspondence-paper, when lo ! 
to my astonishment none was to be found. It was 
some time before I could realize that I had written 
over, in so short a time, a half ream of paper, employed 
only for letters, and scattered it by single sheets among 
my various friends. Many questions rushed upon me ; 
some of them sober ones. Who have those sheets ? 
Where are they ? What thoughts have been conveyed ? 
What emotions excited ? What harm — what good has 
been effected? Now, C — , if you bring the powers of 
your mental and moral nature to bear upon this sub- 
ject, you will see that the thread of moralizing might 
be spun out indefinitely. Do you then appreciate the 
self-denial and generosity with which I resign so fine 
an opportunity, and spare you the infliction ? Then I 

will pass on 

" Have I told you that I have at last been forced 
into preaching in Rochester? .... By the way, in my 
last attempt at preaching the Lord was pleased to give 
me, without any effort or fitness on my part, one of 
those gracious experiences with which He sometimes 
(oh ! that it were oftener!) vouchsafes to visit me. I do 
not know that I ever spoke with a more direct consci- 
ousness of His presence. Without, the night was 
stormy ; within all was very still and solemn. I went 
to the church with a carefully prepared, general dis- 
course, supposing that only (or principally) church 
members would be present. Looking about, I observed 
a majority of unconverted young people. My sermon 



CALL TO FIRST CHURCH — LETTERS, 273 

seemed heavy and inappropriate, and I felt called by 
the Spirit to speak from another text, which I had 
recently employed. It was in this obedience and faith 
that I received the blessing. So you see I have a 
lesson learned. 

" I usually preach each Sunday afternoon at one of 
our mission stations, of which we have several in and 
around the city. — We hear of revivals from the villages 
about us," etc. 

Rochester, May 12 } 1857. 

"My Dear R : 

"I think you will have to preach. Perhaps it 
may be with you as with me — for God, it seems to me, 
had a double purpose in bringing me into the ministry. 
One, to save the souls of men by me ; the other to save 
one. Perhaps God sees that for some of us are needed 
the discipline and the constant demands of so sacred 
and responsible a profession, in order to compel us to 
consistent piety. Abhorrent is a professional piety- 
yet may not a profession aid piety ? A church profes- 
sion does. Do you not believe the ministry has made 
me a better Christian, poor as I am ? Very likely with- 
out it my piety would have gone by the board. God 
designed just this as the means of grace to save me. 
The call was a gracious one — as to the world, so to one. 
Had I resisted it, I dare not think of the consequences 
to myself. Very likely I should have been a castaway. 
Is not the path of duty our only path to Heaven ? In 
the practice of law, "Work or die." In the ministry 
it is, " Be pious or a hypocrite." I think you would 
prefer the former. 



274 CALL TO FIRST CHURCH LETTERS. 

"I doubt whether you will ever attain your own 
standard of an active, faithful, honest Christian life, out 
of the ministry. If you cannot be a faithful Christian 
minister, much less (I believe) will you be a faithful 
Christian lawyer or teacher. I think I could saw wood, 
or manage a law-suit, with a cold heart [towards Christ], 
But I canH preach with it — at least not extemporaneously. 
What then ? give up preaching — and take the cold 
heart ? It might possibly do — if that were the end of 
it ! — But that cold heart must endure hell. No, better 
carry the heart to Christ and beg him to warm it with 
his love ; then go and preach. See ! if it had not been 
for the impulse to preach, you might not have known 
that the heart was cold — or have been content with 
it. I do not remember ever to have preached without 
getting a spiritual benefit. If I have grown in grace at 
all, preaching has been a great means. 

"True enough, it will not do in the ministry to 'do 
good lazily, comfortably and spasmodically/ But the 
difficulty is, it w 7 ill not do out of the ministry. Neither 
does one get rid of the obligation by declining to 

assume the responsibility To be the Christian 

is the all — the minister is included. How would you 
talk to one who should urge your argument against his 
making a public profession of religion ? If he could not 
live up to its vows by assuming them, could he, w 7 hile 
refusing to do so ? Would he not of all others need the 
stimulus of such a profession ? Could you, without a pro- 
fession of religion, have attained the standard of piety you 
have? By the profession of the ministry you would be 
enabled to attain a correspondingly higher standard. I 
find it easier to do good when people expect it of me. 



GALL TO FIRST CHURCH — LETTERS. 275 

" Besides, I think that the reason why you do not 
do better as a Christian now, is because you feel that 
you are leaving the great duty of your life undone, and 
consequently have less heart for other duties. So soon 
as you feel that you are precisely where God would 
have you, there will be some encouragement to work 
and to be pious. 

u A minister has the advantage over every other man. 
The absorption of an engrossing business is added to all 
the other motives to faithfulness and impulses to zeal." 

TO S. T. HILLMAN. 

" March 19. 
"I have been studying considerably on the picture 
you presented in your last letter of a New York Sunday 
to a Christian man. I should not hesitate to say that 
you have too much to do. As I presume there are 
many similar cases (I wish there were more !) it is wor- 
thy of some study to ascertain how and where retrench- 
ment is to be made. Perhaps one Sunday-school is 
enough. If there are two sessions, there ought to be 
two sets of teachers. I do not know but one sermon is 
enough. One, with an afternoon to digest it (not to 
doze off the effects of a Sunday dinner), and an evening 
to talk and pray over it socially, would be better than 
two gulped down without thought or prayer. I would 
rather have my church attend my preaching once and 
my prayer-meeting, than preaching twice without the 
prayer-meeting. But I would not preach to a l half-day 
congregation.' 

" Against this I have a capital remedy to suggest. 



276 CALL TO FIRST CHURCH — LETTERS. 

If a man wants to stay at home in the afternoon, let 
him on one condition — that he always fill his place in 
his pew. Send his clerk, or coal-heaver, or hired girl, 
or find out some poor family and say, i There, you have 
a pew of your own, as good as the best, every Sunday 
afternoon, go, take it, and be at home. I would far 
rather have such a needy, hungry audience than under- 
take to stuff the overfed one of the morning." 

After a visit in the spring vacation to New York. 

Rochester, April 22, 1857. 
44 My Dear Bro. Hillman, 

" I found myself, immediately on coming here, 
plunged into business so deeply, that I have sent out no 
letters yet, save a hasty note home. Yet I have not 
forgotten my friends, least of all my beloved people of 
the First Church, now dearer to me than ever 

" Life in New York as a Christian preacher, and our 
mutual work, loom up before me now in more distinct- 
ness and vastness. As a church and pastor we have a 
mission to perform. The temptation to divert from it 
and the liability to misunderstand it seems to me fear- 
fully strong. ' Not many noble, not many mighty,' etc. 
4 Go ye out into the highways and hedges and compel 
men to come in.' 

"But all this in good time. I sometimes dare to ex- 
pect that the Lord will do great things for us. Why 
not ? I hope you will all get in a large stock of faith, 
stores of promises and prayers, for us to begin on next 
fall if God please. I do not mean in yourselves, and 
least of all in me. You know what faith is. Some- 



CALL TO FIRST CHURCH — LETTERS. 277 

times glorious visions pass before me of scenes in old 
Broome Street, which make the very walls shake. O, 
that God may send His almighty Spirit down ! We 
lack the power. We preachers lack it — the churches 
lack it. We multiply the means but vainly till God 
make them efficacious. 

"But it will not do to dwell much on the future. 
It often occurs to me that I may after all not live to be 
the pastor of the First Church. God give us grace to 
do our duty to-day. 

" There are some among you for whom I am pressed 
with a constant anxiety, and for whom I daily pray ; 

D B , and others. Write me everything you 

can about them. I long to hear of other conversions, 
and already repent that I did not do more while with you. 

• • • • " Love to all the little household. I hope A. 
and F. are very good girls every day, and I want them 
to learn to love Jesus." .... 

TO S. T. HILLMAN. 

" May 12. 

u So you have been experimenting in Congregational 
singing. I wish I might have been there to hear, I 
saw a gentleman the other evening who had that privi- 
lege, and who gave a very favorable account of this first 
attempt. I feel considerably enthusiastic in the matter, 
and hope it will be earnestly pushed forward. I want 
to hear God praised in Broome St. i Let the people 
praise thee, O God ; let all the people praise thee.' I 
think w T hen I come down I shall be quite tempted to 
preach on the subject. 

24 



278 CALL TO FIRST CHUKCH — LETTERS. 

" That Home Mission Society must honor itself by a 
more faithful attendance of the members, or I shall not 
be proud of being on its Board. You certainly need 
an active, practical head-officer upon the ground, and it 
seems to me that you had better rest satisfied with 
having tendered to me the compliment of election to 
the Presidency, and, accepting my resignation, proceed 
to elect the most driving man you can find among you, 
to push the society into maturity. You have made a 
beginning, and not a bad one ; may the Lord enable us 
to do much greater things." 

In May he attended the Anniversaries in Boston, 

and writes : 

"MaylM. 

" I would have written you earlier this week, but 
really I have made a business of attending the meetings, 
and have consequently found time for almost nothing 
else, not even for calling on my friends. Still I have 
met very many pleasant acquaintances, both old and 
new, the latter predominating. 

" I have been compelled to feel sadly out of my 
place oftentimes while here, but I assure you I have 
been only a silent observer, keeping in the corner and 
eagerly listening to learn. And I have learned much. 
It has been a profitable school to me, and I cannot 
regret coming. It is a satisfaction to one who ex- 
pects soon to enter the brotherhood, to see and hear 
and know his future confreres. But do not think 
I should ever be ambitious to appear conspicuous in 
the Baptist Societies. Less so than ever. I have seen 
small men and young men make themselves ridiculous 



CALL TO FIRST CHURCH — LETTERS. 279 

enough to be a warning to all who come after. Of 
ability I have seen three worthy displays," etc. 

"July 1st, 1857. 
" Dear Brother Hillman : 

" I sit down to write what is likely to be my last 
letter to you as a theological student. I hardly know 
what I shall be for the next two months. Simply a boy 
at home, I think. I cannot tell you how much satisfac- 
tion the thoughts of the First Church and my correspon- 
dence with them have yielded me through this brief 
winter and spring. It has been half my life. And now 
I am through, I feel brought much nearer to the church. 
It will not now be unlawful for me to think of them as 
my own. Surely never was found so patient and con- 
siderate a people. I feel very grateful to them. I 
rejoice in the prospect of having soon an opportunity 
to manifest my devotion to them. You have been very 
kind to keep me so constantly informed of matters 
among you. I hope you will not withhold your epistles 
during the summer, but address me at my home in 
Maine. 

" Cling to the Congregational Singing ! If I can in 
any way give it an impulse when I come, I shall do it 
with all my might. I believe God demands it of us. 

" But a few weeks and I shall be among you, to 
work and to love. May God prepare us for the union ! 

"You amuse me by wishing that I may bring a 
* helpmeet,' so that nothing may c distract ' me ! Have 
you so soon forgotten Brother Paul ? i He that is un- 
married, careth for the things of the Lord, how he may 
please the Lord ; but he that is married, careth for the 



280 CALL TO FIRST CHURCH — LETTERS. 

things of the world, how he may please his wife,' " etc, 
etc. 

" Rochester, July 7. 
"DearR : 

" Examinations all passed, and we are graduated. 
Only the final bow remains. Dr. R. held us yesterday 
for ten mortal hours, seven on theology and three on 
strawberries. We are going to have the greatest Com- 
mencement ever known yet. I shall probably leave 
here next Thursday, and hope to see you the week 
after. 

" Have I told you my theme for the Anniversary ? 
It is ' The Independence of the Pulpit.' Is that right? 
I am just going now to get it from the hands of the 
professor. Hope he will find it orthodox, for I don't 
want to write to-day. It is hot — the weather I mean — 
not the speech. 

" I don't think it best to write much now. There is 
no Fourth of July in particular here. Your loving 
brother," etc. 

"Ntack (ox the Hudson), July llth, 1857. 

"Dearest C : 

" I am in a barn-chamber, This is the only sheet 
of paper in the region, this is the dregs of the ink, and 
the pen has seen hard service. Before me rows of 
1 yarbs,' hanging against the board wall, yield their 
musty fragrance. On my right is a great heap of new 
mown hay, and a window leads my eye in frequent 
wanderings down a slope of lawn to the broad expanse 
of the river, and across to the beautiful village scattered 
along the heights of Tarry town. At my back, a joiner's 



CALL TO FIRST CHURCH — LETTERS. 281 

bench and a window which overlooks a garden. There 
the chickens peep industriously, and little feet are pat- 
tering. Below the horse testifies his presence by sun- 
dry thumps upon the floor of his stall. From the house 
come the sounds of children. 

u This forenoon I spent in the saddle. First, I went 
along a road lined with pretty cottages and gardens, 
and skirting the river bank. At the end of two miles 
the road stops short in front of a steep, rocky mountain, 
which overhangs the river in a bluff promontory. So 
I came back to a lighter ascent, which led around it. 
After a half mile's ascent I turned back to behold one 
of the most beautiful landscapes the eye ever looked 
upon. Down the steep hill was a succession of culti- 
vated fields and cozy cottages. On the right was the 
bold promontory first spoken of, on the left the pretty 
village of Nyack, and farther down was Piermont, with 
its great pier a mile long. The Hudson stretched out 
its glassy surface for twenty in length and three miles 
wide, covered with river craft which had all their sails 
set to a fine breeze. The banks rose high on the other 
side, with smooth fields, neatly trimmed cedars, and 
handsome villas. Yonder is the town of Sing Sing, 
with the State prison, lying like a long white line close 
on the water's edge. Next is Peekskill. Directly 
opposite is Tarry town, of Revolutionary fame. Below 
is sweet little Irvington, and the white cottage peak of 
Washington Irving's house, modestly peeping out from 
its bower of trees. Away I went over the hills, stop- 
ping occasionally to admire some funny Dutch old cot- 
tage, or to pick cherries from trees along the roadside, 
.while my horse browsed upon the lower boughs. After 
24* 



282 CALL TO FIRST CHURCH LETTERS. 

a considerable circuit, I began to descend into a most 
glorious valley, great, fertile, and walled on every side, 
A turn to the right brought rue to a large lake. Here 
we rode into the lake, where my pony snuffed up the 
water with great delight, and I stooped down and picked 
pond lilies. 

" Last night a little company of us had a delightful 
sunset ride down the river road, in full view of the river 
and the opposite shore. Nyack is an old Dutch village, 
nestled in here for a century or more. Only lately 
have the rapacious New Yorkers ferreted it out, but 
though the city has set its marks upon it, it has not had 
time to spoil it yet, but only to add variety to its odd 
beauties. There are the most venerable and funny little 
old Dutch houses along the road, protected on one side 
by the river, and on the other by a great hill. These 
houses are built often with a lower story of brown stone, 
quarried out from the hill behind them, and the upper 
of wood, and almost always with a portico the whole 
length. They are indescribably quaint. Along this 
road the Yankees used to worry the British frigates by 
firing into them from behind the trees. 0, the grand 
hills and rose-embowered cottages — this grand historic 
Hudson ! I do think this is the most charming spot I 

have ever yet seen But my sheet is full, after 

much tribulation with this wretched pen. Good bye. 

" Kingman." 



CHAPTER XXV 

Vacation — First Year in New York — Causes of 
Success, etc. 

The time that elapsed between his graduation and 
ordination, was occupied* with travelling and visiting. 
He preached every Sabbath, however, and even more 
frequently. His joyousness was never more remarkable 
than during this interval. In an excursion to St. Johns, 
he attracted the attention of the passengers by his over- 
flow of spirits, and almost charmed away even the 
demon of sea-sickness. The sea was his friend : he 
was a congenial spirit ; and whatever landsmen poeti- 
cally dream might be exhilarating in riding on "the 
bounding billow," he enjoyed in fact. To the healthy 
all things are healthful. Spiritual life especially brings 
not only happiness of its own, but invites, sanctions, and 
sanctifies all gladness ! What an advantage is it to have 
the natural gaiety of healthy childhood carried forward 
into mature life, consisting with and ministering to the 
purest thoughts and holiest pleasures! Sorrows are 
indeed the cost at which most mortals obtain apprecia- 
tion and thence possession of the higher life ; but this 
is because of sin. How blessed to have conquered the 
worst of sin through grace, before the susceptibilities to 



284 VACATION — FIRST YEAR IN NEW YORK. 

pure and elevated joy are corroded ! In a worn-out 
heart, receiving Christ, slow and painful often is the 
advance of the new creation. The mind and desires 
are set right before the emotions ; these do not respond 
readily to the appropriate incitements ; and long is it 
often before the water of life wells up with facility 
and regularity through the fountains that have been 
accustomed to pour only poisoned streams. With 
Kingman it was different. Th*e Spirit had taken pos- 
session of his being while yet the nice adjustments of 
the emotions to the intellect and will were undisturbed. 
The Christ in him was Lord also of the whole material 
world, and he rejoiced freely in all that was bright, 
and beautiful, and innocent, in nature and in social 
life. Thank God, would more than one heart, storm- 
beaten itself and incapable of mirth, say in looking 
upon this happy being, thank God for constituting 
one mortal, who, in this world of strife, can be both 
glad and holy. Perfect the specimen, exalt these 
rudiments in their present combination to fulness 
of development, and it is what the angels are — 
glad, holy. 

He made an excursion also at this time to the Lakes 
in the north-eastern part of Maine, not far from Calais, 
travelling in a birch canoe, and making a lumbermen's 
camp his headquarters. Here trout and togne abound , 
through the wide forests the moose, inhabitant only of 
these wilds, ranges free, and the deer invite the hunters 
rifle. 



VACATION — FIRST YEAR IN NEW YORK. 285 

Evening had come, the fishing tackle was put away, and 
the excursionists were housed. Merriment reigned in 
the loggers' camp. Stretched on their beds of boughs, 
the men smoked, laughed, and told stories. Nott was 
merry, too, and all day long he had been roving about 
the camp like a strong wind, fresh, bounding, and 
boisterous. But when it was time for sleep, and the 
men were turning prayerless to their hard pillows,- he 
said, " Can we sleep without praying ? I always pray — 
shall I pray aloud?" Obtaining silent consent, he knelt 
and poured out his soul to God, while all wondered, and 
were solemn and reverent. How it brought the re- 
membrance of a present God home to each in that 
wilderness, where commonly in all thoughts God was 
not ! It required some strength of principle to venture 
thus on probable ridicule — but with Kingman such 
principle was a habit. 

He passed two delightful Sabbaths in Calais. On 
one, at noon — a still, calm noon — when the hot sun- 
beams were mellowed by a dreamy August haze, and 
the water rippled on the strand with a melodious sound, 
there was an impressive baptism at the river side. A 
multitude covered the high bank and the slopes that 
descended to the brink, and were silent as forest trees 
when only a solemn, quiet wind creeps over them, or 
joined with loud voices in the hymn, 

" 'Tis done — the great transaction 's done — 
I am my Lord's, and he is mine I" 



286 VACATION — FIRST YEAR IX NSW YOEK. 

K. assisted in the services, and with such emotion 
that his voice was scarcely under command, and tears 
flowed freely down his cheeks. He referred ever 
to this occasion as one of singular enjoyment — the 
delightful introduction to an ordinance that he seldom 
could administer afterwards without tears of rap- 
ture. 

We pass with him now to New York, the scene 
henceforth of his activity and toil. 

Of his examination before the Ordaining Council, he 
writes : — 

" Few questions were asked ; not the least carping or 
criticism was apparent, but a delightful spirit pervaded 
the whole. I began my statement of doctrine by say- 
ing, first, that I knew no teacher but the Bible, accom- 
panied by the Holy Spirit, and could only follow my 
own experience ; then, that I was not prepared to give 
mature, much less definitely expressed views of doctrine 
— that I was just beginning the real study of theology, 
and applying the true test of my views by the preaching 
of them. 

• • • • " I have this satisfaction : that in my state- 
ments of doctrine I tried to be honest to my present 
impressions, and that I committed myself to no man's 
phrase-oZo^?/." .... 

The ordination services were of solemnity and inte- 
rest adequate to so important an occasion. The ser- 
mon .was preached by Rev. Dr. Robinson, of Rochester, 



VACATION FIE5T YEAE IX NEW YOEK. 287 

The hand of fellowship was given by Eev. Dr. Sarles, 
of Brooklyn. 

The charge, given by the father of the candidate, was 
peculiarly earnest, touching, and appropriate. One pas- 
sage was prominent for energy : " Be Christ's minister ; 
in Christ's stead plead with dying sinners, and beware of 
adopting anything of theory or creed that would fetter 
your tongue from proclaiming a free gospel -to all." How 
faithfully the solemn injunction was obeyed the sequel 
has revealed : " Only the sovereign grace of God can save 
you " — " Come, sinner, lost and helpless, to a Saviour's 
arms ; " these, as the Bible does, he continually placed 
side by side, and urged, believing that the Spirit would 
save through this proclamation whom He would, and 
longing, with strong passion, for the salvation of all. 

His first sermon after ordination was from Jonah :— 
" Go unto Nineveh, that great city, and preach unto it 
the preaching that I bid theeP The discourse was not 
up to his standard in point of literary merit, but there 
was vigor of thought, and above all, earnestness that 
told with what spirit he began these duties. The con- 
gregation was immense, and he preached by an open 
baptistery. On every succeeding communion Sabbath 
till his death, the baptistery was open. 

It so occurred that the duties of the first Sabbath 
furnished to the new pastor a complete synopsis of 
ministerial service. Besides preaching, baptism, and 
communion, he officiated at a marriage and a funeral. 



288 VACATION — FIRST YEAR IN NEW YORK. 

We now quote letters : — ■ 

" Pastor's Study, Monday Morning, Sep. 14. 

u Dear Father : 

" I suppose that by this time you are restored to 
home, to regularity, and to labor. I hope you are not the 
worse for the trip ; for it would be unjust if, having im- 
parted so much to others, you should not have received 
somewhat in return. 

" I have passed through another week and another 
Lord's day, and have to praise the Lord for His 
goodness. He has blessed me in all things thus 
far, and enlarged my faith for the future. I have not 
spent so happy a week for years, nor enjoyed a Sabbath 
more 

" I prepared two sermons (without writing), and do 
not see why, with health and freedom from interrup- 
tion, I cannot do the same every week. My texts 
were in the a.m., i God forbid that I should glory/ etc. 
"We cannot glory in aught else than the cross of Christ, 
because by the cross all things else are slain. We do 
glory in the cross, because — 

"1. In the cross is the fullest exhibition of God's 
glory. 

" 2. In the cross all things truly glorious do centre. 

" 3. (Personally to us) the cross is the instrument of 
our salvation. 

" In the afternoon — ' That ye may be able to com- 
prehend with all saints what is the breadth and length 
and depth and height, and to know the love of Christ, 
which passeth knowledge.' The dimensions of the love 



VACATION — FIRST YEAR IN XEAV YORK. 289 

of Christ ; broad as the world ; long as eternity ; deep 
as hell ; and, high as heaven ; finally, immeasurable. 

" These are different texts from those I have been 
most accustomed to preach upon. I find myself in 
entirely new circumstances. The cry is for food — spi- 
ritual food, and it comes from Christians of ripe growth 
and deep experience, whose demand is for strong meat. 
They know when they get it ; nothing else will allure 
or satisfy them, however ' smart ; * and when they do 
get it, they go out of church saying, 6 Ah, that is food ! 
— solid food to-day ! ' So I have something to learn, 
and I know I shall find it richly repaying my own 
soul 

" The more I know of my church, the more I admire 
and love it ; and I feel that to it as a body, or to indi- 
viduals of it, I am forming stronger attachments than I 
have as yet known upon the earth, aside from my 
nearest kin. . . . 

"Yours," etc. 

To P. S. Evans, his late class-mate, then minister in 
Boston, he writes — 

" Sept 19. 
. . . " Do you not enjoy the work ? I was never 
so happy in my life. It is a continual feast to my soul. 
I feel that I have something tangible now to love and 
live for. I feel my life-work upon me, and it makes 
me another man. Yet I am grieved and humbled to 
find that spirituality does not come with the necessity 
for it, and that I am yet a creature of weakness, tempta- 
tion, and sin. But I know my people pray. I feel their 

25 



290 VACATION — FIRST YEAR IN NEW YORK. 

prayers. It is in the prayer-meetings that I have found 
the greatest encouragement. Our lecture-room is fast 
filling up. The Young People's Meeting had become 
much reduced. At the first only about a dozen were 
present. At the next I was astonished to find the room 
crowded full. The Female Prayer-Meeting had been 
dead for more than a year. To-day it is renewed, and 
I am anxiously waiting to hear from it. But I know it 
is successful." . . . 

" Sept 21. 
"DearC : 

. . . . "I am surprised that I so seldom think 
of the great transformation ! The ' Rev? on a letter — 
for even father employs the title now — brings me to my 
senses; but I am pretty much absorbed, nor do my 
thoughts often wander off beyond the bounds of my 
parish. 

" I had a happy week last. Lectured on Tuesday 
evening to a houseful on Acts xviii. 11, 12. 'These 
were more noble,' etc., on the Importance of a Diligent 
Study of the Sacred Scriptures. This is designed to 
pave the way for a course of expository lectures. I 
made twenty or more calls during the week, etc. . . . 

" Sunday was rainy, but our congregation good. 
Preached a.m. on John xx. 28: 'My Lord and my 
God!' — on the Divinity of Jesus Christ, — p.m., from 
Ex. xxii. 36, 'Who is on the Lord's side,' etc. I live 
more than ever in your prayers. 

" Your loving 

"K." 



VACATION — FIRST YEAR IN NEW YORK. 291 

" Oct. 6. 
"Dear Mother, 

il I must report to you last week's 

events. Tuesday I came upon three inquirers in one 
house. In the evening I lectured on ' Lord, save me !' — 
Peter's walking- on the sea. Our room was full of eager 
listeners. Wednesday I found two young converts, who 
gave me accounts of their conviction, long struggles, 
and final conversion, to which I listened in amazement. 
They had been converted that day. Thursday a lady 
came to beg me to see and talk with her husband, who 
was in great alarm. In the evening our Young People's 
Meeting was very solemn, and at its close several per- 
sons remained to talk, and pray w 7 ith me. 

" Friday we had a meeting full of prayer — and Sun- 
day was a day of days. I preached in the morning on 
4 One thing I know 7 ,' and baptized three precious con- 
verts. Each of these cases had a special point of inte- 
rest, of which I spoke while standing with them in 
the water. The first w T as converted through Dr. 
Cone's death. The second through the loss of her 
child : for a long time she 4 could not give it up ; but 
now praised God for taking it.' The third — a dear 
child, illustrated my text. She is a timid little creature, 
and when before the church was too frightened to tell 
her story. At last she said, ' I felt I was a great sinner 
— I prayed God for Christ's sake to forgive me my sins 
— and He did /' — and burst into tears. 'One thing I 
know.' The house was full in every part, and a num- 
ber standing. 

" In the afternoon I preached on Christ our Sacri- 
fice, and gave the bond of fellowship to twelve. . . . 



292 VACATION — FIRST YEAR IN NEW YORK. 

I have appointed a meeting for inquiry, and last even- 
ing a few came 

"Yours," etc. 

" October 16. 
"DearL : 

" An uncomfortably large pack of c Unanswered 
Letters ' is accumulating in my desk, but the days rush 
on, and few hours come which can conveniently be 
devoted to correspondence. The Lord is with us here, 
and we are kept busy. When men will hear, they must 
be talked to. When people are ready to pray, they must 
be prayed with. Inquirers must be directed to Jesus, 
that they may not be lost. 

" I said the Lord was here. Week before last He 
came and brought two of my congregation from the 
kingdom of darkness into that of His dear Son. It was 
in one day. I went to the house one evening, not 
knowing what had befallen them, and was instantly 
greeted with, 'Well, sir, you are a welcome guest to 
this house, to-night,' etc. 

" Last week He came again, and took two more. 
One was an intelligent man, whose wife I had bap- 
tized. He brought him to the very gates of hell, till, 
in his horrible distress, he cried unto the Lord, who 
heard him and had mercy, and filled his soul with 
glory. The other was a young woman, who begged 
the sisters who had come to attend her mother 1 s funeral, 
to 'pray for her — such was her distress for sin. They 
knelt beside the corpse, and pleaded until the Lord was 
pleased to come to the house of death, with life, and 
brought joy for mourning. 



VACATION — FIRST YEAR IN NEW YORK. 293 

" To-day, two others have given me their story, and 
are rejoicing in the Lord. 

" Pray for us, L . Why have you not written 

to Miss 1 If you do, you must try to draw her 

out upon religion, and faithfully w r arn her of her duty. 
I hope you are very happy, and entirely successful. 
What are you doing for Jesus ? Whom are you bring- 
ing to Him ? Laboring for Christ is all of life. May 
we be absorbed in it ! 

" There is a great deal of trouble in the city — ' hard 
times !' which the Lord is turning to good account. A 
daily prayer-meeting down town is one of its fruits. I 
preached last Sabbath on l What shall it profit a man 
if he gain the whole world and lose his own soul V The 
Lord be with you. 

" Doubly your brother," etc. 

These suffice to exhibit what beginning was made. 
The question naturally occurs, what were the causes of 
this immediate prosperity and steady advance ? 

One was, that the church had for months been fer- 
vently praying, and had thus become prepared to expect 
and to receive a blessing. It could hardly take them 
by surprise ; they were ready. 

Another was that God had arranged circumstances 
in the city itself, calculated to turn men's minds from ma 
terial interests to spiritual themes. The great financial 
revolutions of '5 7-8 were in progress, riches were taking 
to themselves wings, and the true wealth shone clearer 
An uncommon solemnity rested upon the whole city. 
25* 



294 VACATION — FIRST YEAR IX NEW YORK. 

Another was, that the church continued to pray, and 
supported the pastor by their sympathy, and ready 
and active co-operation in " every good word and work." 
Monday morning they began praying for God's blessing 
on the sermons of the day before ; on the same morning 
they began praying for blessing on the sermons of the 
Sabbath next to come ; and so morning and evening 
through the week. Every Sunday the preacher entered 
a sanctuary that was consecrated with the incense of a 
week's prayers ; every discourse was commissioned to its 
work by the anxious dedications of five hundred pray- 
ing souls. Again, the ground was full of seed. The 
Gospel had been faithfully preached for a quarter of a 
century by the revered and devoted predecessor of the 
young pastor. The people had been well indoctrinated, 
and in the hearts of many of the unconverted, truth, 
though buried out of sight, possessed still a vital and 
a germinating principle. Kingman, obeying the im- 
pulses of youth and of a fervid nature, dealt much in 
persuasion and glowing appeal, urging the invitations 
of the Gospel, expressing upon the sinner the obliga- 
tion of immediate repentance. This preaching God 
blessed. 

Upon the church he constantly impressed the duty 
of implicit faith, and of laboring directly for the salva- 
tion of souls, with the expectation of continual blessing. 
If we pray enough and work enough, believing that 
the power is all of God, and yet we responsible, the 



• VACATION FIRST YEAR IX NEW YORK. 295 

power will never be withheld. As often as we shall 
smite the rock, waters will gush forth. Such was the 
style of his persuasions. 

He gave an example himself of fidelity and endurance. 
Assuming immediately the rail burden of the duties 
properly or possibly belonging to his office, he bore the 
load steadily and manfully. From pulpit labors he 
accepted no respite by exchanges or supplies for many 
uninterrupted months. Each sermon was studied on 
his knees, and aimed at a particular object. A weekly 
lecture was given on Tuesday evenings ; to this also he 
permitted no exceptions. He was uniformly present at 
the prayer-meetings, taking the lead of them, and thus 
impressing his own valuation of their importance upon 
the hearts of the people. 

"With the pressure of these labors, he nevertheless 
found time for pastoral visiting. A memorandum in a 
diary, under date of Jan. 6, 1857, while he was a stu- 
dent, says : 

" Mr. talked to me an hour about New York. 

Says I must make everything bend to my pulpit — to 
make that first — so I shall, in ten years, stand among 
the great men. But if I visit, etc., in ten years I shall 
not be known. Pastor and preacher — one cannot be 
successfully, I am going to try it, if it ruins me ; I 

WILL KNOW MY SHEEP." 

This purpose he carried out resolutely. Beginning 
in September, '57, he had, before February, 1858, 



296 VACATION FIEST YEAE IN NEW YORK. 

visited, personally, the whole church-membership of 
more than five hundred, and commenced a second 
circuit — this time more leisurely. He aimed to pre- 
serve an acquaintance with the phenomena of the 
religious life in the heart of every member, and to 
bring his personal influence most forcibly to bear on 
each, to induce religious activity. This was accom- 
plished by energetic perseverance, aided by a tenacious 
memory, — for he never forgot a name, or a face, or a 
fact. Thus, he was the personal and esteemed friend, 
spiritual adviser, and, it might almost be said, " father 
confessor" of nearly all the individuals of his church, 
and of not a few of the outside congregation. Inquirers 
and converts he managed to meet frequently. 

His sermons were not always models — sometimes far 
from it. With such a burthen of cares, how could they 
be ? Yet, why did they keep the house thronged ? By 
clap-trap, or florid, gaudy rhetoric ? The Tuesday even- 
ing lecture, at first given in the basement, had to be 
transferred to the large audience-room above, which 
was often filled with eager listeners. It was because 
of the "power and spirit" with which he spake. True 
himself to one object, God was true to him and to His 
own cause. It was evident to men that he was in ear- 
nest : he did not assume, or lash himself into, the emo- 
tions that were proper ; he felt them. On his method 
of preparation, and peculiar traits as a preacher, a few 
words hereafter. 



VACATION — FIRST YEAR IN NEW YORK. 29^ 

We are now prepared for^the succeeding letters, 
descriptive of the constantly advancing, spreading work 
of the Lord. Th-ese letters are simply a register of pas- 
toral experience ; they profess to be nothing more. We 
make selections from a large number. 

A single paragraph touching his habits : 

" I rise at six, ride horseback at half-past six, break- 
fast at seven, get to my study by eight, study till twelve, 
admit callers for an hour, dine at one, come to my study 
and map out the afternoon's round, and then go on it 
till tea. The evenings are all taken." 

Only four regular hours of study ; but in these much 
work was accomplished. His power of mental con- 
centration, and of rapid analysis, enabled him to treat 
time economically. He studied in the streets, more- 
over ; and studied the streets, and the people in them. 
Constantly on the watch for sermons — and the world 
was filled with them. 

He was fond of the critical study of the Scriptures, 
for which the fine library of the Bible Union, close at 
hand, furnished him with implements beyond the reach 
of most pastors. 



CHAPTER XXVI. 

First Year Continued — Letters, 

" Pastor's Study, Oct. 20, 1857. 



" Dearest C- 



" It is evening after Lecture, a bitter cold evening 
seemingly, so sudden has been the change from our 
beautiful Indian summer days. I confess I was sur- 
prised to find our vestry full of people, and my heart 
was greatly moved for them. I just begin to yearn for 
the salvation of these souls. I have been so amazed to 
see God work here that I have looked on in wonder- 
ment, half petrified with surprise at his miracles of 
grace, when I ought to have been active and ex- 
pectant. 

" I look on these converts with a new and strange 
feeling of wonder and delight. I have seen converts 
before, but they were converted under other men's 
ministry, and were the fruit of their labors under God." 
[He forgets how many had owned him as the instru- 
ment.] " But these are mine — my own spiritual off- 
spring given me of the Lord. It scarcely seemed pos- 
sible that souls could be converted under my ministry. 
Conversions never before appeared so mysterious — 
incredible to me. 

" I wrote in one of my letters of three inquirers 
found in one house. Salvation has come to that house, 
and two of the number met me yesterday with shining 



300 FIRST YEAR CONTINUED — LETTERS. 

faces. Another dear child, who has long been mourn- 
ing, is happy in Jesus. 

" Sunday was a specimen of beautiful days. I 
preached on ' The Lord is risen indeed.' I think I 
have never so feasted on truth as I did on this. I do 
not know how much blessing was left for the people. 
I am afraid I stole it all for myself. 

" In the afternoon the good old saints who come 
from afar to the First Church, saw a strange sight. 
Behold the front pews, six deep, and all the side pews, 
taken possession of by simple Sunday School children! 
When it came to the singing, the children sang; and 
when it came to the preaching the children were 
preached to. The house was full, even to the galleries, 
and all to hear children talked to ! Humph ! Never 
mind. I have since heard of one little boy who has 
been much troubled because Mr. Nott said that if they 
were not converted while young, they were less likely 
to be so ever. I read and expounded to them Eccl. 
xii., and gave them just so many reasons why they 
should seek God while young, as they had fingers on 
each hand. 

" Last Sabbath was an extra day, because I went to 
a dedication and preached. 4 Who is on the Lord's 
side ? ' was my text. There was some solemnity, but 
it was afterwards all coined into money 

" Good night My heart is feeling heavy to- 
night for souls that are dying, and my eyes ache. I 
must get one of my solid night's rests, so as to be fresh 
for sermonizing to-morrow. 

" 0, we have started a daily morning prayer-meet- 
ing. Won't you all meet with us around a common 



FIRST YEAR C0^TI2s'UED LETTERS. 301 

mercy-seat ? It is from eight to half past eight 

I am well yet ; everybody's well here, and I especially. 

"Yours," etc. 

« Nov. % 1857. 
" Dear Father : 

" I should like to say very much to you in relation 
of God's dealings with me and my people, since I last 
wrote, but cannot enter upon the story, because I 
should not know where to leave off. ... . 

" Two or three weeks ago, I lectured on * Behold I 
stand at the door and knock ;' and disturbed some 
good minds a little, because I applied to sinners what 
the Spirit said to the Church. So the next week I 
lectured on the dry bones— i So they were very many, 
and behold they were very dry,' in which I stated my 
views very plainly, and my heart was greatly enlarged, 
and the Lord blessed us all. However, one person was 
converted by means, in part, of the poor, faulty ' knock- 
ing ' sermon, so I do not feel very badly over it. I 
enjoy these Tuesday evening sermons 

" Well, we have had another of those incomparable 
church-meetings, and another blessed ordinance-day. 
That was the great day of the feast. The Lord per- 
mitted me to baptize four precious converts. I wish 
you could see these converts, and hear their old- 
fashioned deep experiences Then one of our 

large communions, with the galleries nearly filled with 
serious, tender hearted spectators ! 

"In the evening all was turned upside down in the 
old First Church. Old deacons exhorted, and told 
their experiences like young converts, and young eon- 

26 



302 FIRST TEAR CONTINUED — LETTERS. 

verts like old deacons. It was a praising meeting. 
So we are very happy — almost too happy. 

"Another new convert has come to me to-day. 
There is not a general melting yet, but I hope it may 

come " Yours in love. 

" K." 

TO EVANS. 

"Nov. 5. 

u I stayed at home last evening for the first time. . . 
I have an amazing cold that I must shake off before an- 
other Sabbath. You know I am so unused to ills, that 
I have yet to learn patience under even the most tri- 
vial of them. It sometimes occurs to me that before I 
leave the world the Lord may give me abundant oppor- 
tunity. Hitherto my danger has been that of receiving 
my good things in this life, and I have lately been pray- 
ing that this may not be 

" I know I love the work ! The mere thought of be- 
ing interrupted in it, for even a brief space, fills me with 
distress. I feel that it has a stronger hold upon me 
each day. Last Sabbath was so precious ! My tears 
will fall as I write of it. I preached on Christ — the 
blessed and only Potentate — King of Kings, and Lord, 
of Lords, — and baptized a few precious converts into 
his glorious name 

" On Tuesday I was present at the funeral of . 

The scene was to me very solemn and affecting. Bro. 

seemed divinely sustained. Dear man ! My 

heart yearns for him in his sorrow, for I reverence and 

love him. The sermon was preached by , and the 

best I have heard for a lono* long; while. I could not 



FIRST YEAR CONTINUED — LETTERS. 303 

help wishing that the First Church had him to preach to 
them. True, he is an indifferent speaker, but that is all 
lost in the richness of the truth which he lavishes upon 

you I went to Greenwood, and saw the body 

laid in the grave. The ground was cold, and the leaves 
were yellow, and falling. The people stood about and 
sung 

"'Unveil thy bosom, faithful tomb !' 

"It was a sad, yet a delightful funeral, it was so 
Christian 

"We have ' Young Pastors' Meetings' in my study. 
There are several young Pastors that I like much. 
But I have yet no companions. Sometimes my heart 
yearns for the old friendships — especially when I come 
home at the close of Sunday's labors. But if I knew 
more of communion with Jesus, it would be less so. . . . 

" Yours, etc., 

" K." 

u Nov. 16. 
"Dearest Mother: 

. ..." I have been talking with inquirers of every 
sort for two hours, as they have come into my study. 
.... May the Lord take them all ! I never trust 
myself to this work alone, but always have one or two 
of my good deacons with me. We have now before us 

seventeen applicants for admission 

"Yesterday was good. I preached from Eph. v. 25, 
etc., a passage of which the Lord was pleased to give 
me a very precious view, though I could not express it 
all in preaching. 



304 FIRST YEAR CONTINUED LETTERS. 

" Last week I commenced lecturing on Pbilippians in 

course 

" 0, how weak I am ! After all, city pastors do 
have annoyances and cares to which all others are 
comparatively strangers. Every defect of my character 
and heart is now brought out in bold relief. .... 
" Good bye, " Your son. 

" K." 

TO EVANS. 

Dec. 8. 
"Well, my heart has been pretty full for these 
three days. Last Sunday eleven precious converts 
were baptized. I can hardly realize what the Lord is 
doing for us. My people and my work are becoming 
dearer to me every day ; but nearest is our little band 
of converts, numbering now nineteen 

" I am still trying to preach Jesus, and do not find 
the theme exhausted yet. I get into the country to 
preach once or twice a week for a change, and find it 
does me good. 

"Did I tell you of my temerity in attempting exposi- 
tion ? I have ventured to take up Philippians, for our 
Tuesday lectures, and have given three or four talks. 
It is a queer kind of expounding, as you may well ima- 
gine ; but the people have been generally patient, and 
I am becoming fond of it. It gives me the pleasantest 
day's study of the week. 

" Our daily meeting is one of the feeble conies, but 
we love it. 

" I look for you at the holidays. I, for my part, 
cannot think of leaving New York at present— for a 



FIRST YEAR CONTINUED — LETTERS. 305 

day. ' Back ! back ! It is impossible P Pushing him 
back with his gun !" 

(same date.) 
to c . 

" Yesterday was a jubilee with us. ! my heart is 
full and overflowing, and I want you here that some one 
may fully sympathize with me. 

" I have just written down the names of eight, who, I 
feel assured, ought to be baptized another month, and I 
must begin at once to care and pray for them. Last 
night I found a convert and two tearful inquirers in one 

family. Such happy families as these are ! , a 

dear child, stole aside to me the other evening, bowed 
her head and said, 1 1 have found the Savior.' " . . . . 

" December 14 
" Dear Mother : 

. . . . " Yesterday was a perfect Sabbath. The 
fine weather gave us large congregations, and their deep 
and serious attention to the plainest truths showed that 
something more than sunshine had brought them there. 
I tried to preach in the morning on father's text, l And 
he brought him to Jesus? It was not so good a sermon 
as his. In the afternoon I spoke from John iii. 8, on 
the Mystery of the New Birth — in which I fell back 
simply and alone on the sovereign, mysterious, om- 
nipotent agency of the Holy Spirit, to be called down 
by prayer. It's hard working — tugging at dead men 
without that. The truth was a great relief to my own 
mind. We closed the day with a good prayer-meeting, 
in which the brethren were on their feet two at a time 
all the while. 

26* 



306 FIEST YEAR CONTINUED — LETTERS. 

" We seem to have reached a kind of status. The 
first flush is over, and now comes the real, hard work. 
Things are quite disposed now to settle, but I pray God 
they may not, and so far as I can help it by His grace 
they shall not settle yet. We are not ready for it. 

"My sad deficiencies reveal themselves to me more 
alarmingly each week, and my greatest wonder is, how 
labors so faulty can be owned of God at all. But it 
strengthens, while it surprises me, to hear my sermons 
brought up by our new converts as having been used 
for their conviction or conversion. To the glory of 
God be it said, mother, that the majority of the ser- 
mons thus far preached, have already been made to 
appear as blessed each to the good of some one soul, 
while some, as 'Come unto me' — the 'Resurrection/ 
and ' Lord, save ' — have been blessed each to two or 
three. This both humbles and encourages me. 

"Last Saturday afternoon there was a scene, which, 
to me, it was worth a world to witness. Would that 
you and father could have looked upon it ! I gathered 
together my little band of converts, and spent an hour 
and a half with them. As I first surveyed them together, 
the sight overcame me entirely. I could hardly credit 
my eyes. Well, I sat in a chair among them, and 
talked to them, urging on them the motives and the 
means to eminent piety. A strange theme for me to 
talk on, was it not? I felt it so, but I could not help 
speaking upon it. Then we all kneeled, and three of 
them led us in prayer. We have arranged to meet 
every week for i Instruction in the Articles of Faith, 1 
etc. 

" I cannot tell you how I love these precious lambs. 



FIRST YEAR CONTINUED — LETTERS. 307 

Their names are continually with me. I could not 
bear that they should sink back into the mass of the 
church membership, and my personal hold upon them 
be lost at once. I shall keep them near to me as long 
as I can. 

" Yours," etc. 

The interest of the young pastor in the young people 
of his charge was abundantly repaid. He saw them 
obtaining clear, practical, and experimental views of 
Christian doctrine, and early adopting those habits of 
Christian usefulness, which are the sure means of hap- 
piness and. growth. They became trained like a pha- 
lanx. — compact, united, steady, while yet each felt 
individually responsible for the battle. To him, theii 
leader, they had an attachment that was well nigh 
enthusiastic. The degree of his personal influence over 
them was almost unexampled. He was the confidential 
adviser of scores, in their most minute affairs — so far 
as relating to their Christian progress. Questions of 
duty, mental struggles, practical difficulties, oppositions, 
temptations — all were opened to him with the same 
freedom and artlessness as to a dear parent. He had a 
charm to attract confidence and confidences. It hap- 
pened more than once that strangers — a prodigal per- 
haps — hearing him preach, felt irresistibly impelled to 
open the heart to him, and seek sympathy and 
counsel. 



308 FIRST YEAR CONTINUED LETTERS. 

"Dec 21. 

u My Dear Father : 

" Yesterday was an encouraging day. I felt that 
my church and my friends must be praying for me. 
My heart, so long cold and well nigh ctead, was melted 
a little while preaching in the morning on ' Lovest 
thou me?' I did get a glimpse of the love of Christ, 
more sweet than any I have for a long time had. It 
overcame me. Never shall I forget that refreshing 
season. 

" I think my heart was softened for preaching by the 
events of Saturday, in part. That afternoon I was 
with my little band of converts for an hour or more. 
Then one or two came to talk with me about their trou- 
bles, the greatest of which was, a fear that they did not 
love God. This led me to the very sermon I was pre- 
paring, and we talked till my mind was greatly enlarged, 
and we were all bathed in tears together at the love of 
Christ. I could not regret this interruption, for it was 
the best t study' I could have had. 

" The same evening a young man came to talk with 
me, and before he left I felt that he had been guided to 
Jesus, and been able to believe on Him. This prepared 
me for my afternoorSs sermon, which was to be on the 
Prodigal Son. In church the Lord seemed very near 
to me. The house was still and solemn as the grave. 
At the close of morning service I observed a lady 
waiting in the aisles, and conversing with one of the 
deacons. I found she was deeply convicted of sin. 
Afternoon came. I had announced that I should speak 
on the parable, and there was a great running of the 
people together. It was the first tune I have seen the 



FIRST YEAR CONTINUED LETTERS. 309 

house so full. I could not preach much, but the Lord 
was in the place. 

" At the evening meeting the old saint, Dea. C , 

after two or three fervent prayers had been offered, rose 
and said, that a gloom and shivering which had been 
upon his mind, was that day lifted off; he could say, 
' Thou knowest that I love thee,' and earnestly exhorted 
the voung converts to trust in the Lord, who would 
never forsake them. We sang, 'How firm a founda- 
tion.' .... Here I tried to close the meeting, but 
another of our younger brethren was too quick for me. 
He gave an earnest exhortation, and then we sang a 
verse, and went home reluctantly. A good day in 
Zion, was the general pass-word — and I kept saying to 
myself, l I wish father were here ! ' 

" But I must say good-bye, with much love to all, 
and entreating a continued interest in your prayers. 

" Your dear Son, ' K." 

" Dec. 29. 
" Dear Mother : 

" A long letter from you is an unusual treat. I 
have had a feast over your last, and hasten to thank 
you for it, though briefly. 

" We had another solemn day, Sunday. The after- 
noon text — l To-day, if you will hear his voice, harden 
not your hearts? I never preached a closer sermon. 
I knew some of my hearers would be sure I had them 
in mind. There was great tenderness. Poor Mrs. 

! She did not lift her handkerchief off her face 

from the beginning to the end of the sermon, and a 
number of others were in tears. God help me to plead 



310 FIRST YEAR CONTINUED LETTERS. 

for these souls. Do pray for Mrs. . The presence 

of the Lord is in our sanctuary. Strangers observe 
it, and no one appears to escape its influence. At 
times the solemnity has been painfully oppressive. I 
lately gave a running talk on the Prodigal Son. As a 
sermon it was indifferent, but a lady (whom I expect 
to baptize next Lord's day) since remarked to me, 
4 Do you know, Mr. Nott, that I could not realize that 
it was you who were speaking at all ? I looked at you, 
and it seemed as though it must be some one else 
speaking through you. I could not think of you at 
all." Ah, it is the Lord ! Would that I might ever 
be thus lost — both to others and to self, and Christ 
alone appear ! .... 

" Yours," etc. 

" Jan. 18. 

u We are blessed with an unusual succession of 
bright and beautiful Sabbaths, which enables the people 
to come together to hear the gospel. Lately I 
preached the Annual Sermon to the young from the 
text ' Deliver us from evil.' The people prayed more 
than usual, holding a special meeting on Saturday even- 
ing for the purpose — and the Lord was with us. The 
next day three new inquirers came to me. I think the 
feeling is gaining. 

Yesterday 1 wonderfully enjoyed preaching on the 
jailer's conversion, and to-day I have been cheered by 
a number of new cases of inquiry 

"I find occasionally a little extra work for amuse- 
ment. Last Wednesday I preached in Jersey City, and 
this week I go to Philadelphia." .... 



FIRST YEAR CONTINUED LETTERS. 311 

" Last week I went to M , where one of my class- 

mates is just settled. They had a dedication in the 
morning, installation in the afternoon, and gospel in the 
evening — I being fortunately chosen for the last. There 
was a great crowd, and they listened with solemn atten- 
tion while I spoke for more than an hour. 

u With us the Lord still continues to own his truth 
in a surprising manner. It almost seems as though 
nothing could be lost. Sermons well nigh forgotten by 
me, are referred to from time to time by converts as 
having fixed the arrow in their hearts. 

" Sunday was a day long to be remembered. After 
preaching to a large and solemn congregation on c If the 
righteous scarcely be saved,' etc., I was permitted to 
baptize ten happy converts. One was an old lady of 
sixty years, who for twenty years had felt her soul 
blessed in attending on this church. A while ago I 
preached a sermon on The Duty of Publicly Confessing 
Christ, and she remained weeping in the house to tell 
me of her convictions. It was a great undertaking for 
one so old. Two others date back their convictions for 
ten years. One came from a Congregational charch to 
us, another from a Methodist, etc. 

.... "After attending a funeral of one of the old 
pilgrims, I returned to the church just in time for after- 
noon service, and enjoyed preaching again. The con- 
gregation was dismissed, but when I rose to administer 
the communion, a scene greeted me which I never be- 
fore saw. Our large galleries were not sufficient to seat 
the spectators — many were standing. It was solemn to 
commune thus. Why should they remain throngh such 
a service ? Do you not think this betokens a peculiar 



312 FIRST YEAR CONTINUED LETTERS. 

tenderness ? Indeed many of them looked on in 
tears. 

" This was the anniversary of Dea. H 's baptism, 

which occurred forty-five years ago. For twenty-five 
years he was constantly at the side of Mr. Parkinson, 
and then walked with Dr. Cone during all his pasto- 
rate 

"The Lord is pleased to keep me in good health. 
Indeed you could not think it might be otherwise, to 
hear these people pray for me. I am now fresh for 
another month's campaign, and at its close hope to re- 
port yet greater doings of the Lord. Pray for me. 

" Affectionately, 

"K." 

" March 2d. 

u I had a strange experience about preaching Sunday, 
which convinced me afresh of God's care of His minis- 
ters. Last week the ' influenza/ or something else, took 
hold of me and shook me, made my bones ache, and 
ran my pulse up pretty high, leaving me utterly ex- 
hausted. Saturday night came, and, for the first time, 
found me not only without a sermon, but not even with 
an idea. All efforts were vain. My brain was con- 
fused, and I could not stand up two minutes without 
reeling. I prayed, and went to bed at half-past eight. 
It was some hours before I could get to sleep. 

" At two o'clock I awoke — weak, lonely, disconsolate. 
I began to murmur. ' Nobody knows me,' I murmured 
aloud. 'Who knoweth the things of a man, save the 
spirit of man that is in him ? ' instantly flashed on my 
mind. Then, that whole chapter (1 Cor. ii.) passed 



FIRST YEAR CONTINUED — LETTERS. 313 

before me, clear, consistent, beautiful, till its important 
climax in the fourteenth verse. I forgot every trouble ; 
my soul was full of love. I had a sermon, complete in 
every part, with introduction and application ; and the 
particular persons before me (as I usually do) whom it 
would benefit. I was bright and happy. The clock 
struck four. I thanked God for His revelation to me, 
and turned to sleep. In the morning I awoke so re- 
freshed that I laughed aloud. Other things so engaged 
me that I did not have time to think of my sermon 
again till I went into the pulpit. I preached it com- 
mencing with c Nobody knows me ! ' and next Sunday 
I expect to baptize one who in it first grasped the evi- 
dence, that she was indeed born of God. This week I 
feel quite myself again, and am ashamed of my weak- 



m 
After a visit of two or three days to Kennebunk- 

port, he writes : 

" The morning after my return, I bounded down to 
our little prayer-meeting ; and everybody seemed so 
glad, so thankful, that I was made doubly happy. Each 
prayer, and there were many, thanked God that ' He 
had brought back our dear pastor.' Three came to 
tell me they had found the Saviour while I had been 

gone, and I have heard of one or two more And 

I have felt, since coming back, how strong is the attach- 
ment between myself and these dear people. I do not 
know but my church is in danger of becoming my idol ; 
I wonder at my blessings, and deliberately conclude that 
I am the happiest man on earth Last evening we 

27 



314 FIRST YEAR CONTINUED LETTERS. 

had a perfect prayer-meeting ; not the slightest thing 
was out of joint." 

11 March 31. 

" Dear R : 

" I want you to spend next Sunday with me. It 
will be a day of days — a day of a lifetime. About thirty 

persons are to be baptized I want you here — to 

rejoice with me — and to give me some one to talk to. 

" The interest still prevails, and if I am not mistaken, 
increases. The Lord is being pleased just now to bring 
us some efficient men, and to convert some who were 
in peculiarly desperate case. 

u Crowded out, at last, of our lecture-room on Tues- 
day evenings, we last evening opened the house above ; 
and, to my surprise, it was instantly filled : but, in out- 
ward activity, I fear I am neglecting heart piety. Pray 
much for me, my dear brother : — I am far from the 
right state. Come — do come . . . 

" Yours, ever, 

"K." 

The Tuesday evening lectures continued to be held 
during the remainder of this year, in the main audience 
room of the church, and were fully attended. An 
effective course of lectures on the parable of the " Pro- 
digal Son," was given : — " The Soul's Patrimony ;" the 
" Soul's Wandering and Waste ;" the " SouPs Want 
and Hungering," etc. etc. Later, there was a course 
on the " Converts of the New Testament," which fur- 
nished peculiarly fruitful themes, and was much blessed, 



FIRST YEAR CONTINUED — LETTERS. 315 

Of the Sabbath referred to in the preceding letter, 
the " day of days," he says afterwards : 

" You can imagine how great a day it was. This is 
the largest number ever baptized into the church at 
one time. The crowd was immense — hundreds going 
away. One gentleman told me he could not get near 
the steps,'' etc. 

u May5, 1858. 
"Dearest Mother, 

" I cannot repine at any of the losses I am expe- 
riencing, such as the delights of correspondence, social 
intercourse and general study, so long as so great gains 
are vouchsafed to me by my heavenly Father. I feel 
that I ought only to be overwhelmed in gratitude and 
adoration, that I, who am so utterly unworthy, should 
be made the instrument of so glorious achievements of 
Almighty grace. I say ' Almighty,' and well, for I have 
had of late a fresh sense of God's omnipotence as mani- 
fested in the regeneration of souls. Last Sunday, in 
baptizing twenty -four new candidates, I preached on this 
theme, • Christ, the power of God' 1 being my text. We 
had a delightful baptism, the group comprising all 
classes, especially an unprecedented number from the 
Sunday School ; I was only sorry there were not more 
— not from any ambition of numbers (I abhor ambition 
of that sort), but because the work seemed so delightful 
to me, the converts so happy, and the great throng of 
spectators so eager, and so deeply affected. 

"In the afternoon I addressed the converts from 
i Loose Him and let Him go'' — and gave the hand of 
fellowship to thirty-eight persons. The line extended 



316 FIRST YEAR CONTINUED LETTERS. 

across the front and partly down either aisle, and pass- 
ing from one to the other with a few words to each, I 
found this a delightful service. "We have not bad a 
better day. The evening meeting for prayer was the 
most crowded yet ; and though Satan is busying himself 
among us intensely, I cannot lose my courage, nor think 
of an abatement in this marvellous work. I do not 
dwell on the discouragements. Last night I bad a verv 
solemn audience while speaking on that part of the 
Prodigal Son's story, in which he says, 4 I will arise and 
go to my father.' I dwelt chiefly on the simple words 2 
1 I will] and felt, in a degree, as I sometimes do, that 
every word was given me directly from the Lord. . 

" Your loving son, 

"K." 
"May 12. 
"On Sunday I had unusual assistance in preach- 
ing on passages at the beginning of Hebrews — repre- 
senting the superiority of Christ to all other religious 
teachers. Indeed, I liked it so well that I am going on 
next Sunday with c Better than the Angels.' I find I 
get no such satisfaction on any other theme as in 
preaching on Christ. When I speak of him and him 
only, his inspiration seems imparted to me, which car- 
ries me beyond myself. . . Besides this, I have of 
late enjoyed some very good times in direct conscious 
pleading with the impenitent, when I felt the Lord 
Jesus standing in the pulpit side by side with me. I 
pity ministers who do not enjoy preaching." 

May 31, after a few days of illness, he describes 
another remarkable experience in preaching. 



FIRST YEAR CONTINUED LETTERS. 317 

"Some of the good people doubted my ability 

to preach, and especially to preach twice. But how the 
Lord did magnify Himself ! I fairly feasted on preach- 
ing yesterday ! My heart swelled with thankfulness for 
the privilege, and I felt like bounding in upon my 
audience with the glad gospel 'like a youthful hart or 
roe.' I had resolved to give homoeopathic doses that 
day, but found it impossible to stop short of full mea- 
sure. The people were startled into unusual solemnity 
in the afternoon. Just as I was about to rise for preach- 
ing — and the house was brim full — a tall man stood up 
in the front part of the house, and asked me if he 
might be allowed to speak a word to this congregation. 
1 Speak on, Sir, speak,' I told him. He said that he 
wanted to confess before them that he was a sinner, a 
great sinner. He cried to God to have mercy upon 
him. He looked to Jlim, and begged the people to 
pray in his behalf. What a preface, and what an intro- 
duction to my sermon! I repeated what the man had 
said, that all might hear, and proceeded to speak from 
the words 'How shall we escape if we neglect so great 
salvation V It w^as a very solemn afternoon. God 
seemed very near to us 

" It is astonishing how much good a hearty ir preacK 
will do a man. It has set me up more than all the 
medicine I swallowed last week." 

"bth of July, 1858. 

" Dear Mother : 

" It occurs to me to congratulate you upon the 
passage of another of your birthdays — which we are 

27* 



318 FIRST YEAR CONTINUED LETTERS. 

now celebrating in delightful style. Yesterday I 
preached a Liberty, Anti-(spiritual) Slavery sermon from 
the words, * If the Son shall make you free, ye shall be 
free indeed? We had also a pleasant baptism of six 
happy candidates. In the afternoon my cold heart was 
a little melted while meditating on, ' Unto you therefore 
who believe He is precious? Seldom has a sermon done 
the preacher's soul more good. 

" It was a great satisfaction to have L. with us. She 
came Friday afternoon, tired and lean. Saturday we 
had a delightful forenoon among the artists, visiting 
their studios, and carrying away (on memory's canvas) 
many forms of beauty that will be a 'joy for ever.' 

" To-day we are in pure enjoyment of ' the glorious 
Fourth.' We made an early escape from the rising 
hubbub of the city by a beautiful steamer up the East 
River to Harlem, and thence two or three miles by- 
row-boat through placid water to Melrose. Here we 
are spending the day 

" Just after dinner we took to our boat, with a pre- 
cious cargo of eight souls, and rowed through the 
beautiful Harlem River, under the magnificent High 
Bridge, to the ' Spuyten Duyvil' Creek and Hudson 

River 

"Yours, "K" 

In the summer Mr. Nott took the customary minis- 
ter's vacation. He hurried away from the sultry city 
down to cool Kennebunkport, by the sea-side % and here 
for six weeks, free from the burden of heavy care, was 
at full liberty to "recreate." But his ideas of what 



FIRST TEAR CONTINUED — LETTERS. 319 

constituted recreation had become peculiar. A very 
few days of lobster catching and mackerel fishing, and 
of rambling: along " the sounding shore," sufficed ; and 
he was then observed, through the greater part of 
twelve hours, thoughtfully pacing the floors at home, 
roaming "from attic to sitting-room, and sitting-room 
to attic." What was suspected to be ennui, was sober 
and practical meditation, for at night he announced his 
plan. York County was large, was behind the age, and 
religious interests were torpid. Why would not an 
attempt at re-evangelizing the wide field be delightful ? 
The attempt was sure to be so, whether immediate 
results should occur or not. 

His scheme, then, embraced these elements : First, to 
hire a respectable horse and chaise. Second, to send 
handbills, after the manner of electioneering politi- 
cians, all over the county, announcing the coming of a 
religious " stump-speaker." Third, to go into every 
town and hamlet, wherever he could obtain a gathering, 
in meeting-house or school-house, and preach to the 
people with the endeavor to arouse them to greater 
religious activity. 

The announcement upon the handbill was so con- 
trived as to offer a pretext for the visitation ; it read as 
follows : 



320 FIRST YEAR CONTINUED LETTERS. 

REV. A. K. NOTT, 

FROM NEW YORK, WILL PREACH 

In 

On 

AND GIVE SOME ACCOUNT OF 

THE GREAT REVIVAL 

IN THAT CITY. 

The project was carried out in the same spirit of 
enterprise in which it was conceived. The following 
letters give incidents of the tour : 

"Alfred, Aug. 17, 1858. 
"Dear Father : 

" My preaching tour is fairly inaugurated, and I 
may say, successfully. I had a very pleasant leisurely 
ride over the wooded plain, which lies between these 
high-lands and the sea. Horse and I frequently stopped 
by the road-side, or made incursions into the bushes to 
gather the berries which grew plentifully by the way. 
On reaching the hills which embosom this quiet 
village, the scenery rises before one quite finely. With 

some delay, I at last found Bro. D in the meadow, 

who immediately left his mowing, and started out with 
me to scour the parish. This we did so effectually, 
scattering the notices in every direction, that when 
evening came the meeting-house was well filled. All 
the ministers in the place were kindly in attendance, 
and a choir to sing for us. The people listened with 



FIEST YEAH CONTINUED LETTERS. 321 

commendable patience to what I had to say, though 
I was not so interesting as I meant to be. Now may 
God add His blessing to this humble attempt to advance 
His Kingdom ! . . . . 

" I go on this morning to the Gore, and to Bro. 

W 's at Waterboro. I am hoping for a personal 

blessing in this work, which I need certainly as much 
as any whom I exhort. My heart catches an occa- 
sional gleam of interest, which is all too transient.., I 
seem to live two lives, instead of one hid with Christ. 
1 Unite my heart to fear thy name !' 

" York County needs a stirring revival through its 
country towns, and if, despite my utter un worthiness, 
I can be employed in the slightest degree to promote 
it, I shall greatly rejoice. Pray that I may be purged 
from sin and freshly anointed for the mission. 

" Thus far the Lord has opened the way for me as 
completely as I could wish, and I can set up .owe i stone 
of help. 1 

"And so with much love to each and all, 

u I remain," etc. 

"Alfred, Aug. 18, 1858. 
" Dear Mother : 

" I had a various day yesterday. . . . Bro. D- 



and I drove to Waterboro', to Bro. W — — 's, who was 
unfortunately away from home. One disadvantage 
was that our prospects for dinner were alarmingly dimi- 
nishing. But we were sent on to l the Major's,' who 
took up our matters heartily, and arranged both for our 
dinner and the meeting. 



322 FIRST YEAR CONTINUED LETTERS. 

"A part of this road passes trie most beautiful spot 
I have found. Shaker Pond lies among: rich meadows 
and rising hills, and along its bank the road winds, 
bordered on one side by the meadows and water, and 
on the other by the huge rocks and oaks that cover the 
hill-side. Here the Shakers, with an evident taste for 
fine scenery, many years ago pitched their habitations. 
Their palmiest days are past, only two ' families ' re- 
main, and these so crippled that they are obliged to 
hire help to carry on their farms. We talked with a 
number of their queer, venerable people, and were 
permitted to look through their seed-garden, and some 
portions of the buildings. The latter are patterns of 
homeliness in the ugly sense. I could not find any 
young people, though they say there are some. It is 
now practically little else than an asylum for decrepid 
old age and helpless vagrant childhood. They are 
constantly entreated to take children from Portland, 
and do so ; but when I asked whether such remained 
when they grew up, I was told that it was impossible 
to keep them. An itching for 'the world' and the 
trial of their own fortunes drives the ingrates from 
their sober home. To hold them by any obligation 
would be contrary to the principles of the order. They 
assemble in the Hall on Sunday, when people flock 
from far and near to 4 Shaker Meeting ;' and on week- 
day evenings they hold stated meetings among them- 
selves. It is only a half life. Requiescat in 
pace ! . . . . 



"August 19. 
" Yesterday I had a long ride to Buxton : mostly 



FIRST YEAR CONTINUED LETTERS. 323 

over a high plain, through pine forests, whose rounded 
cones scolloped the roadside 

" To-day I am at Limerick, a snug little village 
which surprises you prettily as you surmount an over- 
looking hill. S. and his meeting-house live on this 
hill, and the surrounding landscape bounded by the 

"White Mountains, is magnificent Here I am 

making a pleasant halt, and have arranged my pro- 
gramme for the future : which is, Saturday evening, 
Limerick ; Sunday, a.m., Parsonsfield, p.m., Effingham, 
evening, Freedom ; all of these three churches being 
destitute of pastors. Afterwards Cornish, etc., etc. 

" I hope you and L. are jubilating. Do you find Ten- 
nyson ? I carried it off, and sip from it every day along 
the road, while sober pony jogs on with the reins hitched 
to the chaise." .... 

A few days later : — 

" Kearsage House, N. Conway, N. H. 
" Dear C : 



" Though half- starved and hardly recovered from 
shivering with the cold, I seize the first hour to send a 
missive homeward. We, that is Evans and I, have 
been riding all the morning in a cold mountain wind, 
that has cut through and through. 

" One of the most interesting times I have yet had, 
was on Friday eve at Bar Mills. We found the school- 
house to which we were directed, just in time to begin 
the service, but learned that another preacher had pos- 
session there. So we turned back to another, where 
we came, upon a most miscellaneous gathering. I really 



324 FIRST YEAR CONTINUED LETTERS. 

doubted whether they would allow us to go on in 
quiet, but they listened with the most eager attention, 
and begged me to come again. 

" It was very curious that Evans and I should arrive 
in Portland the same day and meet so providentially. 
I was greatly pleased, and of course I dragged him 
into my chaise, to share with me the remainder of my 
fortunes 

" A full house greeted me on Sunday at Limerick. It 
was a blessed Sabbath morn. The hills seemed to bring 
us nearer Heaven, and the very breath of God rested 
upon them. We rode seven miles to Parsonsfield, 
where I preached in a queer old-fashioned house. No 
people have appeared so much to feel what was said as 
they. The old men bowed their heads and wept, and 
bade me such a good-bye, saying, ( Shan't I never see 
you again ? God bless you] with voice choked by emo- 
tion, so that I felt reluctant to leave them. They are 
destitute and desolate. This was a blessed visit. 

We passed on to Effingham, four miles, and across 
the State line. Here is a sweet little cluster, with one 
pretty meeting-house, and a people of unusual refine- 
ment. As they were already waiting, we went in at 
once, and had a pleasant service. Especially did the 
singing surprise me. Such a choir is seldom found in 
country or in town, and I was particularly appreciative 
of good church music at the time, having for so long 
had none or worse than none at my services. We 

stopped at Judge D % and at half-past four held 

a second service, when Evans preached. 

"At its close we came on to Freedom, arriving just 
at service time, half-past seven. We found one meet- 



FIRST YEAR CONTINUED — LETTERS. 325 

ing-house, but no symptom whatever of a meeting. 
The notices had failed to arrive. I took a youth into 
my chaise, rushed around the village, thrusting notices 
into every house and into every man's face ; — -the bell 
was struck, lights carried into the desolate old house, 
and in fifteen minutes half the population was gathered 
together and I preached. 

"This N. Conway is a glorious place, in air and scenery 
at least. 

" Good bye," etc. 

Kennebunkport, Aug. 26, 1858. 
" My Dear E— : 

"It is through— done, and I am at home again. 
Like the cable, a preaching tour has been proved possi- 
ble. It has been successful in every item, so constantly 
has a good providence opened the way for me. Of 
course it is l bread on the waters : ' the results for 
others must be left with God. I at least have been 
blessed in it, and am in better mood for preaching than 

when I left My experiences, which have been 

of every sort, we will talk over. I have preached 
every evening, save one, and three times on each of the 
two last Sabbaths, making sixteen sermons, in as many 
different places, besides Dover, and the 4 Wildes neigh- 
borhood,' making twenty in all since leaving New York. 
I am every way the better for all this. To-morrow 
evening I am to speak at Biddeford. Think I shall 
spend Sunday at home," etc, etc, 



28 



CHAPTER XXVII. 

Second Year in New York — Perfected Charac- 
ter — Experimental Preaching — Sunday-School 
Labors, etc. 

The first letter written in the new year contains the 
following touching passage : 

" September 17, 1858. 
" I am waiting for a something — a power from on 
high. And first, first, I must learn to pray. I hum- 
bly confess, that I have never been, for any great 
length of time together, a praying man. 11 

The humility of this language finds its commentary 
in that exclamation of the Apostle Paul's, "Not as 
though I had already attained, .... I count not 
myself to have apprehended . . . but ... I press 
toward the mark." 

One cannot help reflecting, how exalted must be the 
privileges really accessible to the child of God on 
earth, how boundless in their range must be the enjoy- 
ments, knowledge, and power attainable in communion 
with God, when a Christian, distinguished for a prayerful 
life, sees so much unfathomed in the idea of prayer 



SECOND YEAR IN NEW YORK. 327 

and untasted in its bliss, that he feels he has never 
prayed! "I must learn to pray!" 

With this spirit, self-depreciating, aspiring, trustful, 
hopeful, the young preacher began the last year of his 
service to God on earth. 

It is evident now to those who then remarked a 
change in him — the sudden ripeness of his character, 
which, so fully formed before, and beautiful for 'every 
excellence, seemed now all at once to have acquired its 
final mellowness and bloom ; the perfection of certain 
Christian graces, the most rare, and commonly the last 
to mature. His advanced self-conquest, his gentleness, 
and, above all, his love — the dyairri — the thirteenth of 
Corinthians realized — love, " envying not, vaunting 
not itself, not puffed up, seeking not her own, think- 
ing no evil, bearing all things, believing all things, 
hoping all things " — this loveliness of love, which 
made "his character and life," especially in the last 
year — (says one) — "the most Christ-like I ever 
knew ;" to those who observed these things, and, 
withal, the new spirituality and experimental depth of 
his preaching, and his increased zeal to be "always 
abounding in the work of the Lord ;" it is evident now, 
that a new heavenly anointing, a fresh, equipment of 
divine grace and energy had been granted him, as a 
mark of his Father's love, and in order that he might 
worthily run the brief remainder of his race. It is 
something not carelessly to be said, but many have 



328 SECOND YEAR IN NEW YOEK. 

said that, had the prescience been bestowed by which 
he should have foreseen the grave and crown so near 
he could not, under the awfulness and glory of the 
thought, have labored more purely, watchfully, and 
faithfully than he did. 

A change — corresponding to that observable in his 
character — was felt also (as intimated above), in his 
preaching. With ripening self-knowledge and grow- 
ing consciousness of personal intimacy with Christ, 
there must always be, in the heart of any one, a pro- 
portional abandonment of self, and conscious realiza- 
tion of the absoluteness of the soul's dependence upon 
the free gifts of God through the efficacy of the pecu- 
liar work of Christ. Naturally, therefore, at the epoch 
of Kingman's experience of which we are speaking, he 
apprehended the importance and majesty of the great 
doctrine of grace — God's Sovereignty, Christ's God- 
head and Vicarious Atonement, the Holy Spirit's 
Creative Work — with greater clearness than ever 
before, as the sole pillars of Christian faith and hope, 
and the basis of all that can with any shadow and 
pretence of meaning be called religion. These became, 
then, more the staple of his preaching. And with 
these, the inculcation of the duties of holy living 
assumed new prominence ; for practical holiness and 
sound doctrine are certainly joined by blood relation- 
ship — both in the Christian's apprehension and in 
reality. 



SECOND YEAR IN NEW YORK. 329 

" I am now preaching/ 1 lie says, " in the forenoons, 
upon the Holy Spirit and His Work. Some of the 
themes I select are these : The Love of the Spirit ; 
The Spirit of Truth; The Spirit the Life-Giver; 
The Fellowship of the Spirit ; Christians the Temples 
of the Holy Ghost; The Spirit the Comforter, the 
Intercessor, etc. In the afternoons I am preaching 
practical piety. Both these classes of topics interest 
me much, and do the people good. Especially do my 
people love to hear of the Holy Spirit. O, here would 
we tarry, till endued with His power !" 

The first sermon of the year was an " Anniversary 
Discourse," commemorating the goodness of God in 
the previous year. It was entitled, " The Review of 
God's Gracious Providences humbling to His Child- 
ren," from Deut. xiii. 2. The introduction happens to 
be extant in his own hand ; we quote most of it : 

" A stranger who should have stepped into this 
house one year ago and again to-day, would see no wide 
contrast in the scenes presented to him then and now. 
The same sacred old walls are about us. Each pew 
remains unaltered. People fill the seats as then. The 
same psalm has just been read, the same hymn of 
praise has been sung. The same voice would fall 
upon his ear. As then, an open baptistery (may it 
never be closed !) awaits the obedient convert. 

" And even to you who have always been here, 
most is familiar. A few faces you miss. Many new 
ones, but not strange, because the love of Christ shines 



330 SECOND YEAR IN NEW YORK. 

through thern — greet you. Probably there are very 
few churches in this fluctuating city which know so 
few changes as this. . . . Fathers and mothers in 
Israel ! we thank God for your presence to-day ! We 
rejoice that your aged eyes have seen the salvation of 
the Lord ! But we cannot spare you from us yet. 
May God preserve you to lead the way to glory ! 

" And I — if for a moment it may be permitted me 
to speak of myself — stand before you to-day with feel- 
ings different from those of a year ago. I approached 
w 7 ith trembling, an untried, imperfectly comprehended 
responsibility. I knew I could not stand upon the 
heights and from above you shout, ' Come on 1 Follow 
me I' But I said to myself, 4 The way is dark — and 
there are many rough and miry places — I can run 
along by their side and hold the lantern ' — for, Thy 
word is a lamp unto my feet and a light unto my 
path .... If from that word, poorly as I have been 
able to hold it up, a ray has sometimes flashed upon 
your path, then — ' Not unto us but to Thy name be 
the glory !' . . . . 

" But there is a Spirit who, invisible, makes His own 
eternal record of all scenes enacted on this world's 
stage. The angel who hovers over us to-dav, and 
whose eye penetrates the inner sanctuary, marks in- 
finite changes. . . . If you would know what changes 
there have been, unveil those secret shrines where 
altars to Jehovah have been erected. Tell us of faith's 
early dawn, of pardon, joy, of consecrating vows, of 
communion with Heaven. Open the Lamb's Book of 
Life, and — see ! new names recorded theiie>J Tell us 
of the angels' jubilee, answering our rejoicings 



p» 



SECOND YEAR IN NEW YOEK. 331 

In the following letters he relates another of those 
" wonderful experiences n with respect to special ser- 
mons, of which we have had two or three samples : 

' ; Oct. 18. 

" I usually find some call to preach on Wednesday 
evenings. Last week I was at the Bloomingdale Church 
for an installation sermon, when I was moved to preach 
on ' The Supernaturalness of Successful Preaching ' — 
a thought that has interested me of late. 

" In Broome Street I am still preaching on the Holy 
Spirit. A week ago I spoke on Inspiration, and in the 
afternoon considered the Last Day — ' i" saw the dead 
small and great stand before God? etc. And here I 
have to record a gracious experience. The week had 
been absorbed in public meetings, and I was in great 
apprehension for Sunday. Besides my mind seemed 
distracted, my heart dull. On Friday evening I noticed 
that the brethren prayed for me unusually, and it so 
touched me that I spoke of it. Sunday morning I was 
unfruitful. In the afternoon I said to myself 4 Somebody 
has been praying for me,' I felt it. The moment I 
stood up to preach and had uttered my text, the Holy 
Spirit seemed to drop right down, as if visibly, on the 
whole assembly. I was quite overcome by it. My 
tongue was thick in my mouth, and I could not speak. 
I could have fallen down prostrate, so great was the 
oppression upon me. But at last, apologizing, I pro- 
ceeded, and we spent as solemn an hour as Broomu 
Street has ever seen, I think. The same feeling con- 
tinued in the evening. Every one seemed transformed. 
At the close of the meeting a lady was found in great 



332 SECOND YEAR IN NEW YORK. 

distress for her sin. The next day I found three new 
converts, and I have met others since. It was this 
which led me to preach on the * Supernaturalness] etc. 
Since then I am more encouraged for the church. A 
spirit of faith and activity is animating a goodly num- 
ber." .... 

We subjoin a plan of the discourse mentioned — all 
that is extant. The sermon itself was undoubtedly — 
from the reports of listeners — a remarkable one. 

u Lo ! I am with you alway — even to the end of the world." — 
Matt, xxviii. 20. 

" Tarry ye in the city of Jerusalem until ye be endued with 
power from on high." — Luke xxiv. 29. 

SUPERNATURALNESS OF SUCCESSFUL PREACHING. 

Int. Kemarks on a preacher's experience. Custom- 
ary to enumerate human qualifications for successful 
preaching, assuming, as of course, spiritual power, or 
reserving it for a climax. Pursue the reverse plan. 

The differences among men — as (1) regenerate and 
unregenerate ; (2) preachers and laymen ; (3) in respect 
of degrees of success in different persons, and the same 
person at different times. 

Allude to the few successful ones. What is the secret 
of success? the question of preachers and of people. 

The Theme. — (Retrace the steps by which a truly 
successful preacher has arrived at his position and show 
by what power he maintains it.) 

I. In regeneration he was, by a supernatural act, 
separated from among men. 



SECOXD YEAE IX NEW YORK. 333 

II. Separated by a supernatural call to preach, and 
designated to a definite mission. 

III. Supernatural truths are the substance of his 
preaching. 

IV. He is borne on by supernatural motives and im- 
pulses. 

Obj.—(l.) That this implies Inspiration. (2.) That it 
ignores natural powers and means. 

Conclusion, — (1.) The need of more spiritual power 
in the preaching of the word. 

(2.) The means of obtaining it (a) by ministers, (b) 
by churches. 

(3.) Appeal to impenitent. 

October 13 tk, 1858. — Installation of Rev. R. L , 

Bloomingdale. 

Mr. Nott's labors beyond the bounds of his own 
parish were extensive and varied. His zeal knew posi- 
tively no limits ; the difficulty was to confine his under- 
takings within the bounds of prudence. He rarely 
failed on Wednesday evening to preach somewhere, in 
a suburb of the city, some village on the Hudson, or 
country town on Long Island. " Spurgeon," said he 
once, "preaches twelve times a week, and thrives on it. 
That cannot be the way for all ; but the more I study 
myself and watch the leadings of God's providence, I 
am persuaded that He has called me to be emphatically 
a preacher — that is my great commission. I meditate 
deliberately resolving to undertake all the preaching I 



334 SECOND YEAR IN NEW YOEK. 

can possibly find to do. Why may I not as well spend 
and be spent in this manner as another ? As for ma- 
terial, if the Holy Spirit have really set me apart for 
such a work, He will feed my mind through my heart" 
Whatever his theory, in practice he seldom declined an 
opportunity to preach ; when he did, it was with the 
same reluctance and regrets that an enterprising mer- 
chant feels when compelled to turn his back upon a fas- 
cinating speculation. 

Into the " new measures " — the new applications of 
the art of preaching — initiated and pursued with such 
success in the time of the "great revival," he threw 
himself with all his ardor. Still, a man could not do 
everything, and he lamented mournfully when he dis- 
covered that Broome Street Church and Chatham 
Square Theatre conflicted in their demands, and that 
he neither possessed strength enough nor could control 
hours enough to till properly the home field, and yet 
lead expeditions into every foreign territory. 

But in one direction his restless energies found the 
opportunity for unrestricted exercise. Here duties to 
his church set up no bar — for here he was simply mas- 
ter-workman, leading, urging, guiding his church-mem- 
bers to work — the pioneer, the marshal of them all — 
striking out new paths continually, and as rapacious for 
new conquests, as Alexander. The field, in which his 
piety and zeal so fortunately found scope, was that of 
Sunday-schools. Twice, in his student days, he had 



SECOND YEAR IN NEW YORK. 335 

been a missionary of the Sunday-school Union ; he was 
still the servant of the cause. 

A gentleman connected with the Sunday School 
Union in New York, kindly writes thus : 

U N. T. S. S. XL, 375 Broadway, 
July 23c?, 1859. 

.... "lam desirous that justice should be done 
to the memory of Kingman Nott, in regard to his love 
and devotedness in the Sunday School cause. I there- 
fore write a line to call attention to the point. He 
really believed in the institution, and he and his people 
worked through it. Would that every pastor did the 
same, and was not content with merely patronizing it. 

" I well remember his zeal in that cause on his first 
arrival in this city. ... A committee of his church had 
been appointed to secure a place for a Mission school. 
Some weeks had elapsed, and no room had been ob- 
tained. His anxiety for the work led him to apply to 
me for assistance. That afternoon we went out toge- 
ther, and in less than one hour we had obtained the re- 
fusal of two rooms in Canal street. 

" In two or three Sabbaths the large room was rilled 
to overflowing with a noble school, and soon after an- 
other mission school was opened in Brooke's Assembly 
Rooms. Later still in his life, his heart was drawn out 
in practical sympathy for the great desolation of the 
Fourth Ward. Had his valuable life been spared, I 
doubt not that he and his people would have there 
started a Sunday School. May his mantle fall on his 
successor ! * * * 

"R. G. Pardee." 



336 SECOND YEAR IN NEW YORK. 

The last mission school mentioned, is still in suc- 
cessful operation. The majority of the children gathered 
in are, nominally, Catholic ; — in reality, Pagan. 

The "Fourth Ward Mission 1 ' established since the 
death of Mr. Nott, is one of the most prosperous and 
useful benevolent institutions of the city. It owes 
much to the impulse given to the cause by his labors 
and example. 

The circumstances of the origination of the second 
mission school, furnish a special illustration of his tact 
and enterprise. A new school was needed — the old 
was overflowing : but a suitable place was not easily to 
be had. In the neighborhood of Broome street Church 
there is a large hall with convenient ante-rooms, used 
for a dancing school. 

Upon this building Kingman cast a scheming eye. 
Contriving in some manner to obtain an introduction to 
the proprietor, he resolved, keeping a utilitarian end 
warily in view, to prosecute the acquaintance. He 
called one day; was politely conducted through the 
apartments, admiring, as he went, their adaptation to 
the uses for which they were fitted up. At last, turn- 
ing with his frank smile and a shake of the hand to the 
pleased proprietor, he said : " A project has* occurred 
to me — a fine one : it will be the easiest thing in the 
world for you to be doing some good with these fine 
rooms: suppose you and I set our wits to work to 
gather in these ragged, ignorant, neglected children, 



SECOND YEAR IN NEW YORK. 337 

who swarm in your vicinity : you supply the rooms— 
I'll supply the teachers." His engaging and persuasive 
manner was irresistible. " I will do it," said the gen- 
tleman ; " you shall have the rooms for the mere cost of 
warming them ; and I'll aid, in every way I can, to 
bring in the children." 

" And now," said Kingman, as he related this the 
same day to the writer ; " now I'll not rest till we have 
one thousand children within that building !" He had 
great projects when he died. But he was no day- 
dreamer ; if his imagination devised grandly — imagina- 
tion was only the pioneer of the will, energy, and abi- 
lity, that could execute : imagination formed no arche- 
types which his creative faculty was not able to realize 
in the actual. 



29 



CHAPTER XXVIIL 

Preaching — Academy of Music, etc. etc. 

We now resume the quotation of letters, though the 
selectious- must be few. Most are occupied, as hereto • 
fore, with accouuts of sermous aud " woDderful Sab- 
baths." 

"December 15. 

" Death has beeu busy among us, aud if you were to 
visit Broome-street Meeting-house, you would see mauy 
pews newly shadowed with mouruiDg. It is a coDstaDt 
sermon to the preacher. Yesterday, I preached on the 
Transfiguration, and said that one purpose of this ma- 
nifestation was to strengthen and cheer Jesus in the 
prospect of death ; for I cannot doubt that he was op- 
pressed by fear of death, and shuddered on the brink of 
the dark river as truly as ourselves — else he would not 
have been, in all points, tempted like as we are" .... 

"Jan. 1859. 
"My Dear C. 

" I am so ashamed not to have written home this 
week, as I have hoped each day to do, that I pause at 
noon this busy day, and insert this letter between two 
sermons. 

" I am going to preach to-morrow, first on Baptism, 
in answer to the written request of a gentleman who 

wishes light I shall aim to treat it gentlv, 

simply, and above all, scripturally, taking as my code 



PREACHING ACADEMY OF MUSIC, ETC. 339 

and standard the accompanying tract [containing simply 
the scriptural passages relating to Baptism], six hundred 
copies of which are to be distributed in the pews, and 
will need little comment from me. Next I shall try to 
preach on Pride the Sinner's Hindrance, from Ps. iv. 10, 
in which, after remarking that all the separation 
between God and men is now in the opposition of the 
human heart, I shall show that Pride is the stronghold 
of that resistance, and opposes God in three ways : 

" 1. Denying the existence of a Supreme Being. 

" 2. Denying the fallen state of the heart — or deny- 
ing 

44 (a) That it has no self-redeeming power — or 

44 (b) That it is responsible for its condition. 

44 3. Objecting to the plan of salvation by the Gospel. 
And shall conclude by entreating my hearers to sub- 
mit to God in every particular, as the only hope of 
salvation 

"I have heard something of Miss Newton's Memoir, 
and shall look into it. I am now reading 'The Higher 
Christian Life,' which would interest you very much 
indeed. Have been dissipating recently in Hugh Mil- 
ler, whom I enjoy very much, and feasting on Ruskin, 
of whom I must have spoken, for I was greatly carried 
away, with him. 

"We had a precious, powerful day of prayer last 
week, which gave us one bright convert, a gentleman 
in middle life, well known, and added an impulse to our 
social meetings which is wonderful." . . . 

" N. Y., Feb. 6. 
44 Next Sunday I am to take my turn at the Academy 



340 PREACHING ACADEMY OF MUSIC, ETC. 

of Music, and I ask your prayers that I may suitably 
feel the great responsibility belonging to the task, and 
have grace given me to discharge the service to the 
saving of souls. The preacher at the National Theatre 
is about to desist from his labors there for the present, 
and seems desirous to have me assume the post. This 
I am not prepared to do, because I could not abandon 
ray Sunday evening meeting, which is so blessed, and 
because I either could not do justice to three sermons 
on the Lord's Day, or should injure my health in doing 
it. But I feel a great yearning for the souls there 
gathered, and shall be willing to stand in the breach at 
least at intervals." 

"Same date. 
"Yesterday was one of our best days. A crowd, 
that occupied every procurable seat, and stood in the 
door-ways, listened patiently to a sermon on 4 If ye love 
me, keep my commandments,'' and witnessed in solemn 
stillness the ordinance of baptism, in which seven happy 
converts put on Christ. One was a person converted 
through the influence of one of our young converts. . . 
There followed, in succession, an Episcopalian, a 
Lutheran, and a Quakeress. Of these, the first is the 
mother of a little girl, baptized a month ago ; the next, 
a German woman, whose experience, like others I have 
heard from simple countrymen and women of her 
nation, is a transparency through which shines the 
work of the Holy Spirit, unmodified and unobstructed. 
.... Is not this an interesting company f ..... . To- 
day another has come to speak to me of a timid hope 
in Jesus just found ; and a dear S. S. scholar tells her 



PREACHING — ACADEMY OF MUSIC ETC. 341 

glad pastor how she loves the school, and has learned 
to pray — so that 4 when she does not pray, everything 
seems to go wrong all day long.' .... 

" Our three Sunday Schools are hard at work, and 
doing well, and the mission children are improving 
somewhat. But they are a vicious race. We have a 
large band of Tract Visiters, busily and perseveringly 
going from house to house, though not seldom martyrs- 
to rudeness and ill-treatment," etc., etc. 

"Dear G 

" I perfectly agree with you that it is not in any 
way wise to preach three times on a Lord's day, but 
extraordinary circumstances may sometimes demand 
the attempt, and so yesterday I followed my day's labor 
by a sermon to the wild animals of the National Theatre 
in Chatham Street. The building was filled full, and 
mostly with young men and boys of the roughest type. 
I went with a sermon in mind, but as soon as I came 
upon the stage — greeted with a 'Hi ! hi! ' and saw the 
motley and uproarious crowd I had to do with, I let all 
thoughts of the sermon go, and catching up the para- 
ble of the Prodigal Son, tried to interest them in that, 
and succeeded in keeping most of them inside the house 
and tolerably attentive. 

"The service was short, and hastening back to Broome- 
street, I found a full room of those who had been pray- 
ing for us. My people stand by me nobly, and have 
voted to pay all the expenses of the service as often as 
I may officiate there; and yesterday one man, a mem- 
ber of the congregation only, told me I might draw on 
him for the expense of a service as often as I pleased. 
29* 



342 PREACHING — ACADEMY OF MUSIC ETC. 

"To-night we have our church meeting, and hope to 
hear new experiences." .... 

Mr. Nott's sermon in the Academy of Music on Jesus 
and the Resurrection, is well known through the printed 
report in " The Pulpit and Rostrum." Its powerful 
effect upon the vast audience could scarcely be exagge- 
rated in description. The immense room was densely 
filled, even to the aisles and passages and the upper 
" tier." One gentleman was told by the doorkeeper 
that "he had shown the last man in who could possibly 
find standing-room." At a moderate estimate, four 
thousand (?) persons were present. Mr. Nott spoke as 
usual without notes ; his voice penetrated with ease the 
farthest recesses; his youth, attractive appearance, en- 
gaging manner, and above all his simplicity, and direct- 
ness, and the inspiration of the theme, irresistibly held 
all suspended on the speaker's words. Breathless 
silence reigned to the close. 

He writes thus of it : 

"Feb.2<L 
" I did not preach the ' spiritual sermon ' at the 
Academy, but the i Resurrection.' 

" The other smacked too much of the seminary and 
the recitation-room. I like the Academy and would 
gladly preach there every Sunday. I knew the ground 
of my sermon pretty thoroughly ; was calmed into so- 
lemnity, as all seemed to be, by the imposing spectacle 
of so vast a throng (it was the largest audience asscm- 



PREACHING — ACADEMY OF MUSIC, ETC. 343 

bled within walls ever preached to in America), and 
though just a little tamed by fright, I went through 
what I had to say quite smoothly, with ease, and was 
very sorry at the end of an hour or more to stop. That 
evening, should it never be renewed, will always be de- 
lightful to remember. But I am Feeling great anxiety 
to hear of more definite results from it than the 
solemn attention yielded for the passing hour. Can it 
be, I ask myself, if the gospel was faithfully proclaimed 
to such thousands, that God will not bless it to the con- 
version of one among the number ? There is a mag- 
netic power in a vast throng — is it all dissipated upon 
their scattering ? I cannot feel quite happy over the 
occasion, until permitted to hear some one say, ' There 
God met me P I begin to wish for lungs of brass and 
a frame of steel, so as to throw myself into the great 
preaching movement," etc. 

" N. Y., April 20, 1859. 

* Dear Mother : 

. . . . " Bright, beautiful days we have had this 
week — days which are calling out all the beauties, ani- 
mate and inanimate, which New York can present. 
Broadway is brilliant ; the houses are turned inside 
out for c cleaning,' and the Broom e-street congregation 
are fast shedding their feathers from grave to gay. 
But I apprehend that levity, whether of dress or man- 
ner, has as little place among our people as with any 
congregation of similar size and class. The reverse of 
the old proverb about a 4 prophet's ' own country is in 
my case true; for I get more honor at home than 



344 PREACHING ACADEMY OF MUSIC, ETC. 

abroad, finding larger congregations and better listen- 
ers here than anywhere else. 

" Last Sunday was a glorious day with us, the Lord 
seeming to help me preach more than for some time 
past, as indeed there was need He should. I preached 
in the morning on the Covenant — as made in David 
for Christ and his people (2 Sam. vii. 13-15) — a noble 
theme ; and again on ' The redemption of their soul is 
precious, and it ceaseth for ever] which made us all 
solemn. Now where do you suppose I got those ser- 
mons ? I had an appointment, that was made some 
weeks previous, to preach on Thursday evening of last 
week at Cold Spring — a little harbor village on the 
upper side of Long Island, thirty or forty miles from 
New York, where there has lately been a little reviv- 
ing. The day came, but with it a violent storm of 
rain. I went in the rain, but the people had given up 
the expectation of having a service. But when it 
was found I had really come, a small congregation 
assembled, and I preached to them the sermon I had 
been preparing for my own people. As in apostolic 
days, they then besought that these words might be 
spoken to them again, on the following day, and urged 
me to remain until noon, and preach at ten o'clock, 
promising me a congregation. I thought it would be 
as good a way as any to prepare for Sunday, and con- 
sented. Next morning was bright and clear, and I 
was up early, and out upon the sea shore before break- 
fast. The country air, the water, the grass, the May- 
flowers, and the birds seemed very delightful to a city- 
bound mortal, and I felt fresh and vigorous. So I 
blocked out a new sermon, and had the altogether 



PEEACHING ACADEMY OF MUSIC, ETC. 345 

novel sensation of preaching on a week-day forenoon, 
in a quiet little village, to a very fair congregation, who 
seemed to be solemnly impressed. 

. . . . " Now for the sequel :— Stepping into a house 
near by, where I was to lunch and take the stage, I was 
introduced to two ladies, acquaintances of the family, 
who had dropped in a moment on their way from 
church. Pretty soon I remarked that they had been 
differently introduced, one as ' Sister,' the other as 
'Miss.' Finding thus that one of them was uncon- 
verted, I turned and invited her to tell me the true 
state of her feelings upon the subject of religion. In 
an instant, before I could be aware of it, she had 
sprung from her chair at my words, and fallen on her 
knees in a flood of tears, sobbing out the answer, — - 
4 Oh, Sir, I'm very wretched !' For several minutes 
there was silence, till she entreated me to pray for her, 
and we all knelt down while I tried to do so ; then I 
talked with her. When I asked whether this was of 
long standing with her, she replied, ■ That sermon, this 
morning ! ' Her convictions seemed to be deep and 
genuine, and her heart ready at once to yield to the 
Saviour. It was a most happy occurrence to me, and 
I came away in a maze of gratitude. 

" There are several new cases of interest with us. . . . 
One is that of a lady who had attended here only a 
little, but came to hear the lecture on Dr. Cone, and 
under that was seized with a strong desire for a better 
and a holy life, which grew upon her until she has 
been led to Christ ! This is like the dead man raised, 
by touching the prophet's bones ! The memory of the 
just is blessed ! It does seem as though no word were 



346 PKEACHING — ACADEMY OF MUSIC ETC. 

to be spoken here without a blessing. Pray much for 
us. May God pity Kennebunkport ! 

" Your affectionate Son." 

The latter part of April and the first of May were 
marked by incidents then apparently unimportant, but 
connected with their sequel they possess a large and a 
sorrowful meaning. Who ever knows what may be 
the final result of the most trivial actions of his 
life? 

From different quarters of the land, moved by some 
inexplicable impulses ; without concert, and each 
almost without a plan, seven or eight of Kingman's 
dearest relatives came up to New York, as if some 
invisible messenger had summoned them, to look upon 
his living face for the last time. They saw him, talked 
with him, drank in the light of love from his eyes, and 
dispersed, to meet next around his bier ! 

If there be no Providence, events have no cause, and 
the necessary persuasions of our own consciousness 
are a lie ! 

A letter w T ritten after his death by a sister who was 
one of his visitors at this time corroborates what was 
said (page 327) of the loveliness of his character, as it 
impressed his associates. 

" It seems to me that K. changed wonderfully those 
last two years. The vast responsibilities of his great 
work mellowed and softened his character. Gentle* 



PREACHING — ACADEMY OF MUSIC, ETC. 347 

ness and humility became peculiarly apparent in his 
whole demeanor. And what wonderful evenness and 
calmness of spirit he possessed — which resulted from 
heavenly peace. His mind and heart were not at the 
mercy of the circumstances and events of the day- — 
ruled by them— but these were subject to his serenity 
of soul. 

"I think it was wonderful how humble he grew 
under the very circumstances, that would have exalted 
most beyond themselves. 

"When I was in New York in May, he said (in 
reference to some remarks of mine) almost in a 
whisper and with tears in his eyes. i I'll tell you in 
truth — I do not feel that I am good enough for God to 
send me such a great blessing. There is a great work 
to be done in my own heart, and I see it more plainly 

every day.' A H saw him in May, and she 

said again and again, ' His face is heavenly." 

" I never shall forget how I sat and gazed at him when 
he sat in the desk, at an evening prayer-meeting — father 
beside him — and his face c shone like an angel's.' I 
thought then that I had never seen a countenance so 
expressive of the purest peace and joy — it was too pure 
for earth — it had no alloy in it — it was heavenly." 

During the " May Anniversaries," his father and 
many friends were with him. Among the pleasant 
scenes of friendly intercourse, one of the most delight- 
ful was furnished by a quiet " Festival," w T hich he 
gave in honor of his Rochester friends. Professors 
and former pupils mingled here. A brief address made 



348 PREACHING ACADEMY OF MUSIC, ETC. 

by his father, is held in tender remembrance by many. 
Its theme was — " I am passing away — my work is nearly 
finished — my son rises up to wear my armor." 



CHAPTER XXIX. 

His Last Acts and Words — Death. 

The logic of events is often, to appearance, faulty. 
An expected, and, so far as visible data are concerned, 
a legitimate sequence fails to occur, and instead — an 
issue that blankly negatives, if that were possible, the 
plain facts that preceded ! A suddeu calamitous event 
frequently stuns with its illogicalness, before it over- 
whelms us with its woe. Thus, indeed, the heart is 
spared ; more hearts would be broken but for this ; 
a blow falls first on the reason, and amazes it with the 
sense of contradiction ; reason staggers to and fro — 

> DO 

back to what she knew — forward to what seems — 
not believing both are real — doubtful which is the lie ; 
reason must recover, and be able to comprehend the 
sorrow, before she can wholly reveal it to the heart. 

To what did all things point, in the condition of 
Kingman Nott — that happy spring of 1859 — to what 
did all things point, but to long life, and growing tran- 
scendent usefulness ? So many fortunate traits ; so 
complete a character; so great and various abilities; 
such power of persuasion, attraction and command ; 
a spirit, so purified ; withal, such vitality, such far-an- 
ticipating vigor ; for what had these gifts been com- 

80 



350 HIS LAST ACTS AND WORDS — DEATH 

municated, for what had such a being been constituted 
and disciplined, why this care in the preparation of an 
instrument, unless for some long-continued, perhaps 
toilsome but noble service ? 

Yet the youthful pastor, in the full vigor of his 
powers, usefulness, and hopes, was now hastening — 
not to higher achievements — but to the grave. No- 
thing foretokened it; his step was elastic, his path 
broad, smooth, and prosperous to the verge. Yet, had 
he no presentiment ? Already what he wrote in 
college has been quoted : — 

"I have often thought that my career might be brief. Often 
have I in imagination gone through the parting scene. And if 
death should call me away before you, dear mother, be assured 
it cannot take me by surprise." 

In a memorandum book of 1859, a book that was 
but little used, the following affecting and solemn 
entry stands almost alone. The date is his birthday 
- — the last. 

"Tuesday Evening, March 22, 1859. 
" One cannot help sometimes thinking whether he 
is likely to live to an old age, or be cut down early. 
I am not fitted to die now, shall I ever be more so? 
I hope I may. At any rate, I must be reminded 
that I am now fairly into the heat of the day, and 
the night will soon come, Already my life's w T ork 
seems short in prospect. It will very soon be all 
over — and for ever ! How insane to trifle! I ought 



HIS LAST ACTS AXD WORDS DEATH. 351 

to be more earnest and single-hearted. God forgive 
the past — and for the future make me better — holier 
— teach me to pray — and to preach/" 

There is a sad interest, as the termination of his 
course approaches, in observing narrowly his conduct 
and his bearing. We know, though he did not, that 
he was doing his last deeds and speaking his last words. 
Were these becoming ? Were they what he would have 
wished? Were they such as must deepen the tenderness 
of our recollections, and soothe sorrow with the conso- 
lation that there was nothing, till the very close, to wish 
unchanged ? 

His last words are contained in a few remaining; 
letters, of which we transcribe two or three — exhibiting 
his earnest joyousness, his grateful appreciation and 
relish of all the kind gifts of God, and the cherished 
plans which occupied his last days on earth. 

The first is addressed to his father, after the return 
of the latter from the " Anniversaries." 

" New York, June 6. 
" M? Dear Father : 

" I am afraid you will think I did not much appre- 
ciate your visit, if I (apparently) so soon forget you. 
But it is the old cry — bewilderingly busy — too much 
so to write, but not too much so to think, to remember 
and to love. 1 feel constantly grateful for your brief 
stay with me, when I find what a treasure the recol- 
lection of it is. I hope that your future pilgrimages 
to New York may be many and frequent. 



352 HIS LAST ACTS AND WORDS — DEATH. 

" I was amused to find your pen, as in your last letter, 
proffering condolence for the loneliness of my estate, 
and I said, ' Is Saul also among the prophets V Did I 
seem to you so very lonely? At least, I can boldly 
say, that the idea could only have been inferred — that 
no complaint has been caught from ray unwary lips. 
No ; I don't think that I am given to any sentiment in 
this matter. I have never tat ^x> the lyric, 

"'It is not that my lo* is low, 
That bids the silent tear to flow ; 
It is not grief that makes me moan, 
It is that / am all alone /' 

" I invariably feel that if ever a mortal had reason to 
be grateful for his lot, I, above all others. Daily content- 
ment attends my busy round, and more than content- 
ment — an active satisfaction. Daily I murmur (my 
only murmur !) ' The lines have fallen unto me in 
pleasant places — yea, I have a goodly heritage.' And 
when I walk about Zion, and tell the towers thereof, 
and mark her bulwarks, joy possesses my heart, and I 
say, ' All my springs are in Thee !' 

" And as for going to a lone home at night, I obviate 
that difficulty by going so late and so tired, that I c thank 
God for sleep,' and am speedily beyond all cares. And 
in the morning, I do not think I ever begin a day with- 
out at a glance seeing each hour filled in prospect, 
until bed-time again. 

" But then I live with people all the while. There 
are always a special dozen or so at a time, whom I 
carry about in my heart ; usually religious inquirers, 
and with whom I am carrying on mental conversations 



HIS LAST ACTS AND WORDS— DEATH. 353 

even when no one is near. I find, as my pastorate 
lengthens, that my burdens increase, but this weight is 
a pleasant pressure. I have been trying to gain the 
confidence of people, and now begin to receive the 
penalty of any success I may have had, by being called 
upon to share all sorts of sorrows or of joys. It sur- 
prises me to discover how dependent the mass of people 
are. How very few ever learn to go alone ! And if 
one does, he is compelled to spend more than half hi? 
strength in supporting the tottering," etc., etc. 

A second letter is written from the Highlands. 

" The Locusts, at New Hamburgh, on the Hudson, 
June 10, 1859. 

" Dear C : 

" I must write you a word from this most beautiful 
place. I am in the midst of the finest scenery I ever 
saw. So much natural beauty is seldom seen around 
a mortal. I came up here, yesterday, on invitation 

from my friend , to enjoy the hospitalities of his 

country-seat for a day or two, and nothing but duty 
would drag me away from here to-morrow. 

"On Wednesday night I preached at the Presbyterian 
church, at Tubby Hook, for the benefit of several of my 
own parishioners, who live near there. This is at the 
upper end of Manhattan Island, on the high borders of 
the Hudson. Mr. H. took me in the morning to the 
Deaf and Dumb Asylum, etc., etc. Then we drove up 
to Yonkers, where a great many New Yorkers reside — 
then the cars for this place. 

" I write in an elegant library, which looks down the 
30* 



354 HIS LAST ACTS AND WORDS — DEATH. 

river, and up, and across it. Yesterday we drove out, 
and visited some of the most beautiful of the estates on 
the river. Such loveliness I had not imagined. 1 
want to tell you about there, and about the people 
some time ; do not fail to remind me. At evening, we 
walked out by moonlight, and this morning had a 
grand horseback excursion, in which I got along 
famously, till my horse fell, and threw me off — un- 
harmed. This afternoon we take a boat-row and to- 
morrow (if I stay) Mr. 'and myself go in saddle 

to visit Idlewild, etc. 

" I have just retreated for the ostensible purpose of 
making a sermon, but found it necessary first to relieve 
my excitement, by at least this trifling effusion to you. 
Beautiful — beautiful region ! Delightful friends, too — 
I wish you were with me to enjoy it all. I know } r ou 
would be enthusiastic. 

" But I must to work. So in much love to all — 
good bye. 

" Your affectionate brother, 

" Kingman." 

The following letter makes reference— near the close 
— to a sermon, one of the last he ever preached, and 
which is said to have made an unusual impression. 

"New York, June, 1859. 
" Dear Mother : 

" I think it must be as long a time since I wrote 
you as anybody, so here I am once more, your dutiful 
son. And I am before you in good condition. Last 
spring I was going through with my acclimation, but 



HIS LAST ACTS AND WORDS — DEATH. 355 

this season I am in superb health and spirits, so as 
almost to begin to question the necessity of vacating 
New York at all during the summer, At any rate, if 
you see it announced that the Rev. Mr. Nott, D.D., has 
joined the clerical squadron of European tourists, donH 
think of adding that it is for his health he goes. 

" I had a good quiet time last week, with the unex- 
citing varieties of my pastoral life. For instance, on 
Wednesday, went to prayer-meeting at eight ; made 
part of a sermon ; looked over twenty odd Rutgers' In- 
stitute compositions, by the young ladies, selecting the 
best for a premium; attended the Spingler Institute 
commencement, where one of my lambs graduated ; 
conducted a funeral at one ; went home to dinner ; an- 
other funeral at two ; made four or five calls in different 
parts of the town ; home to tea ; officiated at a wedding 
at eight ; and finished with a musical soiree at the 
Spingler, and a call on Dea. and Mrs. , to congra- 
tulate them on the successful completion of their daugh- 
ter's education. Went to bed, and do not recollect 
whether or not I felt lonely. 

" Last week was also distinguished as witnessing my 
long contemplated visit to L. New Haven looks fresh, 
and so does our L . 

" We had another perfect day for the Sabbath, and I 
preached to full houses. In the afternoon my own up- 
town people fall off very much, but their places are sup- 
plied by strangers and those of other churches. I en- 
joyed one sermon unusually well, from the words — 
4 If it were not so, i" would have told you.'' Ah ! I wish 
that I might oftener revel in such experiences! But 
they are only very occasional. Only once or twice 



356 HIS LAST ACTS AND WORDS DEATH. 

since being a pastor, have I been lifted quite so high. 
Sometimes I feel that such occurrences become more 
occasional ; sometimes I indulge a hope that the future 
may secure them to me more frequently. I am quite sure 
that I have yet to learn how to make and how to preach 
sermons. May the Great Teacher instruct," etc. 

The next is the last letter to his father : — 

* June 27, 1859. 
" Dear Father : 

" Two or three new inquirers presented 

themselves to-day. I hope there may be prayer and 
faith enough in us — the church — to pray them into the 
kingdom. But I fear we are falling behind in this 
regard. I fear there is not a universal and longing 
desire for the conversion of souls. How strange that 
the mass will tire even of this, and appear almost con- 
tent to rest 

" I preached at Nyack last week for Dr. Devan's 
church. This week I am going down to Long Island 
a day or two to preach. This island is our Aroostook, 
our Sehard, I might almost say. For summer vaca- 
tion I am balancing between three weeks of labor in 
evangelizing that region, and the same period of quiet 
retirement, with study and meditation, at home (i. e., 
Kennebunkport). I certainly need to ' go apart? My 
heart's desire is to receive in some way a fresh anoint- 
ing for my work. One looses hold of many strings 
that slip through his fingers in a year's time, and needs 
to gather up anew," etc 



HIS LAST ACTS AXD WORDS DEATH. 357 

The anticipated summer vacation was at hand. His 
plan had been matured. He had decided to occupy 
most of the time with a missionary tour on Long 
Island. One more Sabbath intervened — July 3d — the 
first Sabbath in the month, the day for baptism and 
communion. On the succeeding Monday he was to 
take the outside steamer for Portland, intending a visit 
of a few days to his father and family ; and then 
meaning immediately to return and enter upon his pro- 
jected labors. He anticipated with great exhilaration 
the whole, — the short sea voyage, the visit, the tour. 

He began, truly, to be in need of rest. Upon Sun- 
day he was ill ; a vacation would doubtless restore him 
to full strength and elasticity, but his vigor had cer- 
tainly now become much impaired. On Sabbath morn- 
ing, near church -time, a deacon called. He had not 
risen ; he lay weak and pale, but was cheerful, and 
lightly ridiculed what he called his unmanly, and of 
course temporary prostration. " Oh I can preach," he 
said ; " I shall preach." " No, no, you must not leave 
your bed to-day, we shall insist." He answered by 
endeavoring to rise, but fell back— too weak to stand, 
(Another minister, Rev. Dr. Church, was applied to at 
the last moment, and preached in the morning.) A 
favorite sister, L., who happened to be visiting him at 
the time, sat by his bedside during the forenoon. He 
talked much, speaking chiefly of sermons he intended 
to preach, and of plans for doing good. " I need an 



358 HIS LAST ACTS AND WOEDS — DEATH. 

occasional break clown," he said once ; " God pros- 
trates me sometimes, to remind me of my dependence 
on Him : I forget it, and trust too much in my own 
strength ." 

Though obliged to succumb in the morning, he 
had absolutely determined that no degree of physical 
disability should altogether prevent his sharing in the 
interesting public services of the day. Sheer force of 
will prevailed against infirmity. 

By his order a carriage came to take him to the 
church in time for the baptismal service, after the morn- 
ing sermon. He lay for a time upon a lounge in the study, 
helpless as a child. Then the baptizing robes were 
put on him. He walked almost totteringly across the 
threshold of the church door, trod more firmly up the 
aisle, was erect as a soldier the instant he stepped upon 
the platform, where an open baptistery greeted him ; the 
natural color began faintly to flush his cheeks ; his eye 
kindled. He went down into the water, and for the 
last time officiated in the ordinance of baptism. In the 
afternoon he preached a short sermon, and administered 
the communion, aided by the Rev. Dr. Hill, who had 
long been one of his congregation. At the close of 
the service he said, " Now I am a well man." From 
that hour he seemed to grow strong again. It was a 
marked victory of the spiritual part over the material. 
What can w r e not do when, in the next world, our 
bodies are spiritual too ? 



HIS LAST ACTS AXD WORDS— DEATH. 359 

The intended embarkation for Portland the next day 
did not occur. The reasons which he saw for the 
postponement are told in the following letter. God's 
reasons were soon made manifest. 

" Dear Bro. Hillman : 

" It was not until Saturday afternoon that I reluc 
tantly dropped my plan for a sea-voyage this week, 
rinding that my invited guests all seemed to fail me. 
You were left alone, and I hardly dared to hope you 
would feel like undertaking it. 

" I feel just like it to-day, and believe I should start 
off with you alone, if it were not for unfortunate engage- 
ments which I allowed to be pressed upon me as soon 
as I relinquished this, and which now bind me beyond 
all release. 

" I shall go as soon as I can, and I hope you will not 
fail to take my sea-board home in Maine during your i 
summer travels. 

" The Lord go forth with you, my dear brother. 

u Sincerely yours, 

" Tuesday. "A. K.N." 

The original letter bears the following endorsement : 
\JRec J d after his burial, July 11th, 1859.] 

According to his custom of preaching in country 
places on Wednesday evenings, he had accepted an 
appointment for Wednesday July 6th. This was the 
"engagement . . . which bound him beyond all release." 



360 HIS LAST ACTS AXD WORDS — DEATH. 

Upon the New Jersey side of that narrow frith which, 
on the west of Staten Island, connects New York harbor 
with the ocean, at the distance of about twenty miles 
from the metropolis, stands, close on the shore, the old 
village of Perth Amboy. It was here that Mr. Nott, 
consenting to invitations repeatedly and kindly urged, 
had arranged to preach. 

It was with no slight difficulty that he contrived to 
keep his word. Obstacle after obstacle opposed. The 
eagerly anticipated excursion to Portland must be put 
off. His best friends, meeting him here and there, 
said, "Do not go; you are not fit ■; you cannot bear the 
trip ; to preach will make you ill." Persuasions, in 
some instances importunate, were added to deprecation. 
His physician positively forbade his departure. Invi- 
tations came to go elsewhere, from friends ignorant of 
his intentions ; one in particular, most urgent, and 
which he declined with the greatest reluctance and 
disappointment. Finally, his sister L. says this : 

" Several times, when he was so weak, I begged him 
not to go to Perth Amboy, and told him he would cer- 
tainly be unable to preach the next Sabbath if he was 
not careful. He said, with such earnestness as startled 
me, ' L. we know not what a day may bring forth.' Se- 
veral times he repeated this, and I overheard him saying 
it to himself" 

His "engagement bound him beyond all release,'' 
because it was with the bond of a divine decree ! 



HIS LAST ACTS AND WORDS — DEATH. 361 

Tuesday was a busy day. There were many calls, 
and engagements to fulfil with his sister and other 
friends. Throughout the day there was, for some rea- 
son — partly, no doubt, from his physical languor, an 
appearance of unusual sweetness and seriousness in his 
demeanor. When alone with his sister he was thought- 
ful. " Once," she says, " in the midst of conversation 
Kingman paused, with a startled look — i God is angry 
with the wicked every day — how fearful P he said, then 
pursued the conversation." 

On Tuesday evening he lectured as usual. The day 
and the day preceding had been so crowded with occu- 
pations as scarcely to have allowed time for the small- 
est preparation. After supper he made haste, in com- 
pany with L., down to the study. Before he had oppor- 
tunity to secure the door there was an interruption — 
then another — and only a few moments remained before 
the time for lecture. " Now, L., keep perfectly quiet," 
he said ; and seizing his Bible, opened to a passage, 
fastened his eye upon it for a moment, and then, rising 
suddenly, ran as fast as he could — on tiptoe — round and 
round the table, with his hands clasped to his forehead, 
and then all at once exclaiming " I have got it — let us 
go" walked quietly into the lecture room, and spoke 
with his accustomed connectedness, fluency, and power. 
The incident proves, doubtless, a highly excited state 
of the brain. 

On Wednesday morning a pleasant company, con- 



362 HIS LAST ACTS AND WORDS — DEATH. 

sisting of himself and his sister, with two intimate and 
dear friends (whose goodness of heart and active kind- 
ness are deserving of most grateful remembrance) went, 
by steamboat, to Perth Amboy. The passage ordinarily 
occupies two hours, and the scenery is more charming 
than can be described. Kingman seemed even more 
than usually appreciative of whatever was beautiful, and 
spoke many times of his love of the water. li Next to 
being a Christian minister," he said, " I would like to be 
a sea-captain." 

His sermon that evening was essentially the same he 
had preached in other places, the text being from 
1 John ii. 1, "If any man sin, we have an advocate with 
the Father, Jesus Christ the righteous." 

L. remarks : " A stranger in the congregation said, 
4 That young man prays as if he was almost in Heaven !" 
He read, for singing, the hymns, 

" While thee I seek, protecting power ;" 
and 

" In the cross of Christ I glory." 

He said that these were two of his favorite hymns, par- 
ticularly the last, and that he always selected these when 
he preached away from home, and found a book that- 
contained them. 

Accounts agree in representing that the sermon was 
extraordinary in earnestness and power. He seemed 
to preach under a presentiment. His mind and heart 



HIS LAST ACTS AND WORDS — DEATH. 363 

overflowed with vivid thought aud emotion. He con- 
tinued speaking a full hour, scarcely able to break off 
his earnest exhortations — nay, entreaties. He closed ; 
he glanced lovingly and lingeringly upon the assembly, 
as though still reluctant to bid farewell ; he gave the 
benediction — and his last work on earth for God was 
ended ; the last message had been spoken ; his mission 
was completed, and the account sealed till the Last 
Day. 

The next morning; dawned bright and beautiful. It 
had been his purpose to return immediately to New 
Fork, but he willingly yielded to the persuasions of 
friends to remain through one day, in the hope of rest, 
pleasure, and new strength. In the forenoon he joined 
a sailing party, and went down the bay. His happi- 
ness was exuberant. "Never," says a companion, " did 
I see him so full — so overflowing with enjoyment." 

The party returned and landed. " I saw that young 
man when he came from the boat," remarked an old 
fisherman afterwards ; a he was worn out : I saw his 
look." 

All proceeded to the house of the kind friends whose 
hospitality he was enjoying. A cheerful company was 
gathered in the parlor reading, talking, playing. Mr. 
Nott had just entered, coming from his own private 
room, where afterwards a Bible was found open upon 
the table, showing what his employment had been. 
Presently a young lad came gaily to the door, and look- 



364 HIS LAST ACTS AND WORDS — DEATH. 

ing around, said, " Who would like to go and bathe ? 
Who will go V " I will most certainly — I never refuse 
an invitation of that kind !" said Mr. Nott, laughing, 
and springing eagerly to his feet. At that instant the 
performer at the piano was playing a familiar, touch- 
ing melody : Mr. Nott listened, paused, then walked 
slowly to the instrument, and leaning upon it, joined 
softly in the song. It was this : 

" My days are gliding swiftly by, 

And I, a pilgrim stranger, 
Would not detain them as they fly — 

Those hours of toil and danger ! 
" F<yi % oh 1 we stand on Jordan 1 s strand. 
Our friends are passing over : 
And just before, the shining- shore 
We may almost discover /'' 

The pianist left the instrument, and Mr. Nott, with 
one friend and the young lad, went from the house. 
L. looked after them, smiling, " We shall see you 
again in a few minutes, I suppose — and no doubt much 
refreshed !" 

A steep bank terraced, and planted with shrubbery 
and flowers, — flowers to the last, for him to whom they 
were such a delight ! — descends abruptly, in the rear of 
the house, to the water's brink — a fence alone dividing 
the garden from the narrow gravelly beach which the 
tide washes. A little bathing-house stands just within 
the enclosure. Kingman and his friends were soon 
arrayed in their bathing-suits, and ran gaily to the 

31 



HIS LAST ACTS AND WORDS — DEATH. 365 

stream. A slight indentation on the shore, with a 
wharf projecting at one side, forms here a miniature 
harbor, where small vessels anchor and boats are fas- 
tened. Mr. Nott struck boldly out ; he swam easily 
and well, and with vigor not soon tasked : but he chose 
not to go into the main current, contenting himself near 
the shore, with the most leisurely movements and quiet 
enjoyment of the luxurious coolness of the water. His 
friend, after a very little time, became tired, and returned 
to the bathing-house. The lad soon prepared to follow. 
Mr. Nott said, " I am not ready yet ; do not wait for 
me.'' The youth looked back and saw him lying 
on the water, calmly floating, looking upward, and 
absorbed in contemplation of the sky, over which light 
clouds, tinged variously with the rays of the afternoon 
sun, were passing. The lad saw distinctly his face; 
its look of tranquil enjoyment and wonder, and heard 
him say, " How beautiful the sky is !" 

Five minutes later he looked again, — and the bather 
was not in sight. Perplexed ; then fancying he had 
swam to the wharf, and might be ascending it, the youth 
hastened thither — vainly ! Then supposing he might be 
concealed by the boats that were anchored in the cove, 
he called his name ; but there came no answer. In 
great terror the lad hurried to the ho«se, and not 
alarming all, called one or two. These ran to the 
bank, took a boat; they knew where he had last been 
seen, and, rowing to the place, they found where hia 



366 HIS LAST ACTS AND WORDS — DEATH. 

body lay. His face was still turned upward to the 
sky ; it was as placid as when last seen. Thus he 
rested ! The vision of the beautiful sky was exchanged 
for the vision of Heaven ! 

The depth of the water was a little less than his own 
height. He might have stood there, and breathed the 
air. It was a visitation of God — God had called him 
home. 

What was the immediate occasion of his death, can 
only be surmised. If cramps had seized him, he might 
have cried for assistance, or would have struggled. He 
had evidently sunk without a stroke of hand or foot. 
He lay as he might have been lying on the surface of 
the water. Probably — in a condition of greater 
exhaustion than he knew, and with a brain of late too 
often excited and over-strained, the sudden chillness of 
the water had caused a congestion, with which he died 
instantly. 

The body was borne to the house. L. soon knew. 
Alas! her farewell had not been a final one; those 
were not " last words !" 

Soon, at her request, despatches were sent to his 
friends. 

His father, at Kennebunkport, was in his study ; his 
mother, singing at her household work. 

His eldest sister — lightly chattering with her little 
children and directing their sport. 

Two sisters, in a town remote from home, were 



HIS LAST ACTS AND WOBDS — DEATH. 367 

engaged in the pleasant employments of their 
school. 

A brother, at a Theological Seminary, was in the 
recitation-room, where the final public examination of 
the course was just commenced. 

Upon each, thus busy, light-hearted, and hopeful, 
fell — at nearly one and the same hour — the thunder- 
bolt ! Thus it is in life ; tragedy unpreluded : the 
events of another sphere vague in their greatness, and 
terrible — abruptly intervening among the easy, natural, 
quiet, recognizable sequences of this ! 

On Friday, July 8th, these friends, summoned from 
different quarters, were hastening to meet in New 
York. The morning of the same day the steamer 
from Perth Amboy — her flag at half-mast — ran up the 
bay, with her little company of heavy-hearted ones, 

" And her dark freight— a vanished life." 

The sad news had already reached the city and had 
touched with lively sorrow the hearts of multitudes. 
Far beyond the circle of his own church and his per- 
sonal intimacies, there were thousands who felt the 
shock as if they had lost a dear and valued friend. 
His personal influence had been so widely extended, it 
had been so powerful and pure, that when his star shot 
from the zenith, all who ever saw its ray mourned the 
extinction of a beautiful, tender, and inspiring light. 

If such was the universal feeling, even where only 



368 HIS LAST ACTS AND WORDS — DEATH. 

his name had gone, what was it among the religious 
population of the city — what was it in his church ? 
" We have no words to describe the effect of the news," 
remarked " The Examiner " ; " every Christian man 
whom we met, without respect to the denomination 
with which he was identified, referred to the event with 
those tearful expressions of grief that are common to a 
great personal bereavement." 

Words, truly, have no power to describe grief. It 
would be only an impertinence, then, to dwell longeron 
the present theme. But the affecting tributes to his 
memory by hundreds of mourners who seemed broken- 
hearted, the extraordinary strength of personal attach- 
ment immediately developed to view on the part of the 
entire membership of his church, and a very large 
number of his congregation, are almost passing cre- 
dence — attachment, too, which they who now mingle 
with his people, must feel was so genuine and so much 
a part of their life that it suffers no perceptible decay 
with time, — these it was fit thus to indicate, though 
they cannot be described. 

His body lay, on Saturday, at the house of Dr. Bige- 
low, on Sixth-street, where his contented home had been. 
Hundreds thronged the steps, the passages, and the 
silent room where his loved form was placed, all day. 
Poor women, to whom he had never spoken but per- 
haps a casual word ; children, who had sometime met 
the smile of his kindly eye, or felt the affectionate touch 



HIS LAST ACTS AND WORDS — DEATH. 369 

of his hand, converts, old pilgrims, came, and many with 
sobs, to look once more upon his face, or kiss his lips. 

It is a fact, that, to many, in gazing upon his face, 
grief was almost smitten back to its source in the heart, 
by the w r onder, solemnity, and all the effects of the 
4< powers of the world to come," that filled the soul 
from the serene beauty of his countenance. Death had 
conquered him, but — it was unmistakable — he lay there 
a conqueror. Death, which seemed at first to stand 
terrible, triumphant, exulting, sneering, by the bier, 
shrank away, vanished ; was among the things of tran- 
sient, disappearing, unimportant time, while eternity 
rushed around and transported the beholder instantly to 
the realm of the real, the enduring, and the changeless. 
In the look of his face could be seen what life really is, 
not its manifestations — its weak, struggling phenomena 
here in mortality, but in its essence. It was seen that 
life in essence is holy and partakes of the eternal ; that 
all else is death, and that to what is else death is 
limited. 

And there was not one, also, that did not feel that 
Christ Jesus lives, and is exalted, and has a kingdom. 
The signet with which he presses the brow of his dead, 
bears the stamp of his love, his victory and his promises. 

The funeral took place on Sunday. It was in his 
own church on Broome-street There was no sermon. 
Addresses w T ere made by Rev. Dr. Cuyler, of the Dutch 
Reformed Church, Rev. Dr. Williams, Rev. Dr. Adams, 



370 FUJTKRAL SERVICES 

Presbyterian, and Rev. Dr. Rol inson, who had I 

his dearlv loved and rev-: in Theolocry, at 

- * 

Rochester. u The Examiner " says, "The large meet- 
ing-house was filled to its utmos :: y. an I 
street in front of it was thronged by multitudes who 
could find no admission. The number present, in 
outside the house, is varic 

eight thousand. Th ) doubt that at 1 

thousand persons were there. The most impressive 
testimony tc of the the 

heartfelt grief manifes sands who sought 

the opportunity to look once more upon the 
of him who there in death. Hundi . 

passed before his in nncontrolk row. It 

was a scene never to be forgotten." 

The coffin was borne tc the :.. ience 

of Dr. Bigelow, in Sixth-street; the pall-l 
Messrs. Somers, Dunbar, Weston, I 
Evans. Norton, Pendleton, P« Iking by its si 

It was affecting to see the Eh*. Somers, and 

the veteran yet still :_ :: ; is Dnnbar, holding the pall 
over the remains of th -;;; . g >ther who had fallen 
in the early morning oi his earthly career. 

The long process;;:: on ::;; - . wed ~_; 

coffin, rendered a more appropriate : touching 
tribute of affection, than any : ; ras show ;: sorrow- 
fill trappings could have lone. 

A more detailed account c: the funeral services 



ADDRESSES AT HIS FUNERAL. 371 

and of the remarks made on the occasion is here 
copied from the New York Chronicle : — 

"The body was borne up the aisle to the front of 
the pulpit. 

" On the coffin lay a couple of wreaths of immortelles 
and other flowers. The hymn beginning 

u Brother, thou art gone to rest j 
"We will not weep for thee," 

was sung in solemn strains as the coffin was carried up 
the aisle. Rev. Dr. Hill, Secretary of the Home 
Mission Society, opened tbe services by appropriate 
remarks. 

Rev. Theodore L. Cuyler, of the Dutch Reformed 
Church, then read a portion of the Scriptures, and 
addressed the congregation. 

" He said he hoped no one had come to listen to 
studied addresses or eloquent orations, but that they 
had assembled to pay with their hearts the tribute of 
grief. The pulpit, where so lately he stood, all health 
and strength, is now too early empty, and that coffin 
too early full. Said the speaker : How that beloved 
young man came among you, what he did for you, and 
how he has left you, are the three things which I shall 
briefly present to you. But two short years have 
passed since he came among you, fresh from the halls 
of learning, to take the weighty responsibility of a 



3Y2 ADDRESSES AT HIS FUNERAX. 

church in a great metropolitan city. For one as young 
and inexperienced as he, it was certainly no easy task, 
no light struggle for him to stand before a congregation 
where such a preacher as Spencer Cone had minis- 
tered and uttered his brilliant truths. We little 
dreamed that the time was soon to come, when he 
would cease from his labors and be called home to his 
reward. But his work was done — he has more than 
fulfilled the brightest hopes of his kindred, friends, 
instructors, and brethren, who on this spot so lately 
gave him the right hand of fellowship, and welcomed 
him to his field of toil. During his ministry, no church 
in the city has enjoyed greater prosperity. 

" The fame which he has already gained — and it is no 
ordinary thing for one so young as he — the fame he 
lias won and the affection he has drawn to him, was 
pure, legitimate and deservedly sacred. He sought no 
notoriety by illegitimate means, he sought not the 
public ; the public sought him, and hung upon his lips 
to hear the words his Master gave him. The fame 
which attended him was that which attends God's 
truth, earnestly, clearly spoken. Such was his min- 
istry, with you his glory was ; he preached Christ, he 
loved Christ, and pointed souls the way to Christ ; and 
the hundreds who have already welcomed the cross of 
Christ are the seals of his ministry. Could he open 
those pallid lips and speak to us from the realms of 
glory, he would say to us his brother ministers, Preach 
Christ alone, and him crucified. But four days ago he 
left us — last Sabbath he was with you, taking part in 
a service most dear to a preacher who loves his flock — 
the commemoration of the o-reat act of his Saviour and of 



ADDRESSES AT HIS FUNERAL. 373 

ours. His words were those then of a dying man, and 
his sublime utterances of the truth yet ring in your 
ears. He went from you, but he bade none of you 
good bye ; there was no bitter pang at parting ; you 
expected to-day to see him in his accustomed place. 
He parted from you, and soon he parted from friends 
nearer still to him, yet bade them no good bye ; he 
parted from one who had been his playmate from child- 
hood, and bade her no good bye. He went on to his 
last hour of suffering with no eye upon him but his 
God's, and no arm beneath him but his Saviour's. 
Over his last hour hangs, to-day, a pall of unbroken 
mystery, placing it beyond mortal ken ; yet, who can 
doubt that in that last struggle with death, his soul 
rose from his sinking frame, to legions of angels await- 
ing him, crying, 4 Oh, Death, where is thy sting ? Oh, 
Grave, where is thy victory V [Here sobs and weep- 
ing were heard in all parts of the house.] His record 
is on high ; his memory is in the hearts of his beloved 
people. I would not, to-day, exchange the crown 
which rests upon that brow, for the crown of empires. 
To-day is he welcomed by those who have gone on 
before, and who now join with him in singing the 
praises of him who died, that man might live." 

"Tears were shed freely by many during the remarks 
of young Mr. Cuyler. Rev. Dr. Armitage offered a 
prayer, during which the weeping still continued 
throughout the house. Rev. H. J. Weston, of the 
Oliver Street Baptist church, then read the 749th 
hymn, which was sung. Prof. Robinson, of the Theo- 

32 



374 ADDRESSES AT HIS FUNERAL. 

logical Seminary at Rochester, next addressed the 
audience. He spoke in substance as follows : 

" My heart is too full for articulate utterance. I am 
to-day too much of a mourner to speak to you other- 
wise than in broken catches, of one whom I have inti- 
mately known as a cherished pupil, a dear friend and a 
Christian minister. This is no time for formal preach- 
ing. With this church I can say, the waves and the 
billows have gone over us. Summoned from duties, 
from festivities even, I may say, of which our young 
brother was once a joyous participant, I have come 
merely to speak to you from the feelings of my heart 
— to join with you in an humble trust to God that He 
will show us why He has so afflicted us, and to mingle 
my utterance and my prayers with yours over this 
bier. Stunned as well as blinded, I can do but little 
else than grasp for a few of those great truths upon 
which, in times of affliction like this, we lay hold and 
feel strength. Our young brother is not here, for God 
has taken him — it is a simple but a great truth — God 
has taken him. God is a sovereign, He hath done it 
in His wisdom ; it is not a misfortune; it is not an 
accident ; it is but a part of the purpose of our God, 
as much a purpose as was the beginning of his exist- 
ence. God gave, and at the appointed moment He 
hath taken away : let us lay hold upon that truth, that 
is an act for good of a sovereign God. Every circum- 
stance accompanying that death seemed to point it out 
as especially an act of God. It was not the result of 
carelessness or the neglect of any one. In consequence 
of an invitation extended months ago, he went over to 



ADDRESSES AT HTS FUKEJRAL. 375 

New Jersey last week, to preach a sermon in the even- 
ing. He did preach a long and faithful discourse,, 
praying, as a brother present says, with unwonted 
fervor and devotion. The next morning he went on a 
fishing excursion, and it was only by the most trivial 
incident, an inquiry at dinner for bathing dresses, that 
the company went out bathing during the afternoon. 
While out with his companions, playfully diving and 
sporting in the water, with no eye to witness it, no 
outcry, no commotion of the water, he sank so quietly, 
so peacefully to rest, that no one knew it until he was 
gone. God took him, not by accident, but in His own 
sovereign way He said to him, 'Thy work is done, 
come up higher.' I have felt, then, that it is well for 
ns, here, at this moment, bowed down as we are, to lay 
hold with an unrelenting grasp upon this truth, that 
God is a sovereign infinitely wise and good, who even 
chastiseth us for our benefit. It is a wise providence. 
Oh how difficult for us to believe that it is a wise 
providence, that it is for the best that he should go, as 
he did, and when he did, I know that to our weak faith 
this seems almost like a dagger. Even the Bible itself, 
speaking as it sometimes does in paradox, seems hard 
for us to believe ; how difficult then, for us to feel that 
our dear brother should be taken away from us, as 
who can say that the day of death is better than the 
day of one's birth ? Our brother lived briefly, and he 
lived well, and now his work is done. Not two years 
since, I, with another brother, placed my hands on his 
head in solemn ordination. He then bade fair for a long 
and most useful life ; and how difficult for us now to 
see the wisdom of God so taking him away." The 



376 ADDRESSES AT HIS FUNERAL. 

speaker then referred to the extraordinary command 
possessed by the deceased over his faculties, and re- 
marked, " He was not a genius in the ordinary accep- 
tation of the term. His was the genius of patient, 
untiring labor. He possessed a rare combination of 
excellent qualities, and was especially known for his 
cheerful, earnest and devoted piety, and his life of 
Christian activity commenced while he was yet at 
college. At that early period of his life he was noted 
for his endeavors to save his companions from the ways 
of sin, and took every opportunity of addressing those 
who would hear him, on the riches of the Redeemer's 
grace. Had he known from his earliest years, when 
he should lie still and cold in the mighty frost of 
death, he could not have devoted himself more zeal- 
ously to the service of his God. Ever since his minis- 
try in the First Baptist Church, he has not confined 
his energies solely to that field, but has been in the 
habit of visiting, preaching, and exhorting, on the out- 
skirts of the city, and in the neighboring villages, 
whenever men would come to hear him, or he could 
find a pulpit open to him." In his remarks the speaker 
paid this tribute to Mr. Nott's efficiency. " He did not 
preach a single sermon here, or in the surrounding 
towns, from which he has not subsequently heard, as 
having been blessed by God with the conversion or 
awakening of some soul, and it is rare for a young man 
to, as he did, add to his church within two years, over 
two hundred members." In conclusion, the speaker 
said, " We mourn not so much him as the hopes of 
usefulness buried with him ; but neither he nor the 
hopes buried with him are for ever lost to us ; they shall 



ADDEESSES AT HIS FUXERAL. 377 

come again and shall meet ns at the judgment seat of 
Christ. He has gone to a higher sphere — let us pre- 
pare to follow him." 

"Professor Robinson was followed by Rev. Dr. Adams, 
of the Presbyterian church, who cited, as a sort of 
parallel to the case, the death of Rev. Mr. Spencer, of 
Liverpool, who was drowned while bathing in the 
Mersey. He said, " Let us be still and know that this 
is God. But last Sabbath a preacher of the gospel, 
now he lies before you, preaching yet more eloquently 
than ever from those cold and pallid lips. Ah, could 
he but now open them, and break the silence of the 
grave, what might he not tell us of the glories which 
have burst so suddenly upon his view. The best 
tribute of your affection is your remembrance of the 
many great truths he has uttered to you, and your faith 
in them." 

"Dr. Adams then offered prayer, after which the 
1284th hymn was sung. There being a general wish 
to see the deceased once more before his consignment 
to the grave, an arrangement was made by which the 
persons in each section of seats in the body of the 
church, and afterwards those in the galleries, were 
allowed to pass in order before the coffin, as it stood 
in front of the pulpit, aud cast a glance on the 
beloved face. 
"After all who were in the house, except the clergy 
32* 



378 ADDRESSES AT HIS FUNERAL. 

and immediate friends, had viewed the remains, and 
left the church, the large crowd who had waited over 
two hours outside the church, unable to obtain admit- 
tance because of the throng, were allowed to enter and 
pass round before the coffin. This occupied some time, 
during which the utmost silence and solemnity per- 
vaded the church, notwithstanding the vast numbers 
going in and out. Last of all the various ministers 
went forward and took a last look at the body of their 
young brother. It was five o'clock before the exercise 
closed. The procession then formed and moved to the 
cemetery in Second street. The people gathered 
around, and after singing, the pall was removed and 
the coffin, with a single lily lying at its head, w r as low- 
ered into the vault. The father of the deceased, Rev. 
H. G. Nott, then gave the benediction as follows : 

" Blessed are they who die in the Lord : Yea, saith 
the Spirit, they rest from their labors, and tbeir works 
do follow them. He being dead yet speaketh. May 
the love of Jesus Christ, through whom he preached 
the resurrection and life now be given. The love of 
God, our Father in Heaven, and the fellowship of the 
Spirit abide with us all, and for ever. 'Amen !' all re- 
sponded." 

In the following December the remains were removed 
to Greenwood, and placed in a lot then first provided 
by the First Baptist Church. A granite obelisk, erected 



dr. church's remarks. . 379 

by the Broom e-street congregation, and inscribed with 
the names of all their pastors, marks the place where 
he now lies. 

In place of any extended remarks of ocir own, it may 
be fitting that we should quote from some of many dis- 
criminating and genial tributes which the life and death 
herein feebly pictured, called forth. Dr. Church in ,the 
Chronicle observed that, among other characteristics. 

44 Mr. Nott was always remarkable for the perfect 
availableness of his powers on all occasions. His rea- 
soning was a sort of intuition, and his faith, perception. 
Thoughts and truths found in his mind a congenial 
soil, instantly springing up in appropriate words and 
gesticulations. His voice was full and commanding, 
and his utterance perfectly easy and natural. His per- 
son was short and light, but his countenance was lively 
and expressive, beaming with the sentiments of a fervid 
soul. He always in the pulpit had perfect command 
of himself and his subject, and his hearers were never 
apprehensive of a failure from his youth, inexperience, 
or any cause. 

44 One thing we will say of his people, that their 
treatment of their young pastor is a model for all 
churches in similar relations. Their sorrow at his loss 
is not embittered with the memory of unkindness to 
him while he was with them. It has been, throughout, 
one of the happiest unions of pastor and people with 
which we were ever acquainted. The deacons were 
always tender of his health, careful of his reputation, 



380 REMARKS IN THE DAILY NEWS. 

judicious in their advice, and the most faithful of 
Aarons and Hurs to sustain his uplifted hands. Though 
short, how sweet the menaor}' of such a pastorship ! 

" That will never die, but will remain for ever an 
occasion for gratitude and of adoring praise. 

"Brother Nott,'' he continued, "had no partizan 
connexions since he came to New York, and his union 
was as perfect with brethren of one party as another ; 
for literally he knew no man after the flesh. Hence all 
alike feel that one of themselves is gone, and over his 
grave we all meet in the most cordial sympathy and 
good will. So let us remain evermore." 

A writer in a New York daily journal found a place 
in the midst of heated political discussions and partizan 
warfare to write thus on the day after his death : 

" In briefly analyzing his character we observe a 
combination of qualities that, as we reflect upon them 
in their relations to each other, extort from us for Mr. 
Nott the appellation of a model man. A bright exam- 
ple, worthy the imitation of all young men. He was 
the moving spirit of the social circle ; was tenderly 
attached to his family relations and his friends ; and in 
the Sabbath School, where he would be found sure as 
the Sabbath came, and in the Society meetings of the 
Church, he always displayed the same genial disposition. 
Yet he was never light nor trivial, but always conducted 
himself with a dignity of bearing, and displayed a gra- 
vity and common sense in conversation, which would be 
expected only in one who was more advanced in 
years. 



REMARKS IN THE DAILY NEWS. 381 

"Especially did he always keep in view the object of 
his mission, and never let pass unimproved an opportu- 
nity to enforce personal religion upon those unconverted 
persons with whom he came in contact. He was noted 
for his kindness to the poor and the afflicted, and the 
weak always found in him a heart to sympathize and a 
hand to help. 

" His intellectual attainments were of a high order. 
1 An educated Christian' was an expression he often 
used, in speaking of what individuals should be. No 
words could more accurately delineate his own charac- 
ter. They are an epitome of himself. And an educated 
Christian is the highest form of character. His ser- 
mons displayed an originality which was the subject of 
frequent remark; they were characterized by sound 
doctrine, and beauty of language and of thought, and 
were delivered with a grace and fervor which did not 
fail to secure the attention, to convince the judgment 
and to win the heart. His own fervent piety shone out 
on every occasion. In conversation and at the baptis- 
mal service he had an appropriate word for every indi- 
vidual, and was endeared alike to persons of various 
tastes and dispositions. 

11 His last ministrations were noted for piety and zeal. 
He preached Christ. He was handsome in person, was 
manly and independent in spirit, yet humble and gentle 
as a child. The members of his Church and congrega- 
tion are in great grief at their loss, for he was beloved 
by every one, and was just entering' on a brilliant career 
of usefulness. It was remarked that on Thursday he 
went into the river singing, and just before the water 
covered him, asked his friends to observe how beautiful 



382 DR. bright's remarks. 

the Leavens were. How suggestive ! Singing in the 
river and the heavens beautiful. He passed through 
the river of death singing, and went to realize how glo- 
rious the heavens are." 

Dr. Bright, in the N. Y. Examiner, in a copious and 
eloquent sketch, (Jul)- 14, 1859) remarks as follows : 

u It was regarded by many as a perilous undertaking 
for one so young to stand in the place of such a man as 
Dr. Cone; but it is no exaggeration to say that he 
proved himself to possess, in extraordinary measure, the 
ripe wisdom, the ready tact, the clear-sighted discrimi- 
nation, the sterling integrity, the warm-hearted nature, 
and the pulpit power, necessary to make him a highly 
successful pastor and preacher in any position. Wo 
gave him a large share of our heart the first time we 
heard him preach, and every subsequent sermon that 
we heard from him, or interview we had with him, did 
but increase our respect and love for him. His preach- 
ing was without notes, and it is said that he rarely, if 
ever, wrote a discourse before delivering it. But if the 
half-dozen discourses we heard from him, in the ordi- 
nary ministrations of the pulpit, may be accepted as 
samples of his style of elucidating and enforcing gospel 
truth, he must have been an earnest and prayerful 
student. His conceptions of a subject were never com- 
monplace, but always natural and comprehensive, his 
language chaste and simple, his illustrations apt and 



DR. BEIGHT'S REMARKS. 383 

striking, and his elocution easy and impressive. He 
seemed to us, when standing in the pulpit, like an intel- 
ligent man with rare conversational ability, illuminating 
every thought that occurred to him, and making it the 
property of every hearer, however young or illiterate he 
may have been. Hence he invariably had the fixed 
attention of his large congregation, and we have the 
testimony of more than one of the most discriminating 
of his hearers, that he preached so well at no previous 
time as in the last three months of his life. 

" The brief ministry of Mr. Notfc was productive of re- 
markable results. The first sermon which he preached 
in Broome-street led a soul to Christ, and at every 
monthly communion of the church, the hand of fellow- 
ship was given to some newly converted persons that 
had just been baptized. From the first Sunday in Sep- 
tember, 1857, to the first Sunday in July, 1859, the 
last of his Sabbaths on earth, his people seemed to be 
constantly gathering the fruits of a present revival ; and 
it was surprising, as we are told by one of his deacons, to 
observe how large a proportion of the 205 persons he had 
baptized in the twenty-two months, traced their first con- 
victions of sin, or their subsequent deliverance, to the 
sermons or exhortations of their pastor. His heart was 
in what he said, and it seldom failed to make other 
hearts feel its power ; and the consciousness of his de- 
pendence on God was so deep and abiding, that it was 
no uncommon thing for the family with whom he 



384 DR. BRIGHT' S EEMARKS. 

boarded, to hear his voice in earnest prayer after mid- 
night. " He walked with God ;" and such was the 
influence of his blameless and joyous life, that we have 
been told by an intelligent member of his church, who 
knew him intimately, that the example of Mr. Xott, in 
his e very-day intercourse with his people, was worth 
more to the church than all that he received for his 
services as their pastor. 

"Our departed brother was not satisfied with the 
numerical increase of his church. He brought all the 
enthusiasm of his generous nature into the service of 
developing its missionary life. Fruitful in devising 
wise measures, he labored, with an assiduity that knew 
of no repose, to bring the church and their work as 
near together as possible, and to have as much of it done 
as possible. He had the most exalted conceptions of 
the church as an evangelizing organization, and re- 
garded it as a part of his mission to demonstrate how 
much direct missionary work a church might accom- 
plish. He has tolcj us that he did not believe any 
other pastor had so good a people to work for and 
with, and that he found a boundless satisfaction in the 
thought that he was so completely one of them. He 
knew that he had their confidence, and he asked no 
more than to be their helper in unfolding and nurturing 
the truly aggressive character of a Christian church. 
Few pastors of maturer years could have died leaving 
behind them the records of nobler beginnings in that 



DR. BRIGHT'S REMARKS. 385 

direction, than are now to be found in the mission 
schools, the tract districts, and other beneficent enter- 
prises of the First Church. 

" Mr. Nott possessed, to a remarkable degree, the 
power of adapting himself to the diversified duties of a 
pastor. Other men might have been able to do some 
things better than he, but we can name no man who 
did a larger number of things so well We have seen 
him as the presiding officer of one of his church socie- 
ties, and as the conductor of a prayer-meeting. We have 
heard of him as the sympathizing friend in sickness, and 
as the counsellor of the anxious inquirer. We have 
listened to him as he stood in the pulpit, on the plat- 
form, and on the floor. But we have not seen or heard 
of the first instance in which he did not develope some 
quality, of mind or heart, that gave him special fitness 
for every class of ministerial duties, and for those duties 
among all classes of men. The sermon which he 
preached, as one of the series, in the Academy of Music, 
Sunday evening, February 13, 1859, about "Jesus and 
the Resurrection," riveted the attention and electrified 
the hearts of as large and cultivated an audience as 
could be gathered in any house in the city of New 
York. The demand for its publication was instant and 
universal. But the preacher on whose lips thousands 
hung with ever swelling emotion on that memorable 
occasion, could and did make ineffaceable impressions 
on the hearts of children, and the most grovelling and 

33 



386 EEMAEKS IN THE EXAMINEE. 

ignorant of men. He loved to carry and to open the 
treasures of the gospel to the poor, and he seized every 
opportunity to do it. His vacation of last summer was 
spent in a missionary tour in destitute districts of Maine, 
and August of the present year was to be given to a 
like work on Long Island. He intended to take the 
whole length of the island, preaching Jesus, from even- 
ing to evening, in every accessible place. 

" What Mr. Nott was in his social life, will best appear 
from the following letter, written at our request, by a 
member of his own church, who had rare means of esti- 
mating his worth as a friend :" 

" What you ask of me is at once a very grateful and 
a sadly painful task. Whatever of egotism you find in 
the few lines I send, will, perhaps, be excused, as almost 
unavoidable, if I w 7 ould write clearly and to the point. 

"I first saw and heard Mr. Nott in the pulpit, in No- 
vember, 1857. I became personally acquainted with 
him in April, 1858. He baptized my wife and daugh- 
ter in May, and myself in August of that year. The 
personal intimacy between us has existed scarcely more 
than a year — yet it seems as though the attached friend- 
ship of a lifetime w r as compressed into these twelve 
months. Many intimacies, more or less close and con- 
stant, and highly valued, have been my privilege in the 
course of somewhat peculiarly varied scenes in the last 
twenty years. But no other man has ever so gently, 
yet so irresistibly drawn out towards him, by the cords 
of love, all the best and deepest sympathies of my na- 
ture, as did this great-hearted young apostle. 



REMARKS IN THE EXAMINER. 387 

" His mode of elucidating religious truth was to me 
peculiarly interesting, even as an intellectual exercise ; 
for I could but admire his ever-ready, fluent, earnest 
eloquence — his dignified bearing and self-possession — 
his happy choice of language — and the winning, sym- 
pathetic tones of his voice ; and above all, the manly 
sincerity and truly Christian spirit that breathed through 
ail he said. If ever my own inmost consciousness has 
been touched and enlightened by divine truth, it has 
been through the words which fell from his lips. 

"But this is not what you desired of me. Ten 
thousand others more competent can worthily testify of 
his public ministrations. The intimacy with which he 
honored me and my family during the last year of his 
life, gives me the privilege of remembering, with pecu- 
liar and earnest satisfaction, the characteristics of his 
social intercourse; — the qualities which marked and 
endeared him to us' as a man, as a friend, as a pastor, 
in the freest and most intimate everyday relations. T 
can hardly trust myself to express, in full, the warm 
admiration, respect, and love which every day's know- 
ledge of him served to strengthen and increase. 

" Of the facilities for a few hours' change of air, and 
relaxation which my house (a few miles out of town) 
afforded him, he frequently availed himself. His 
coming was always hailed with delight by the little 
children as well as the oldest. Very few persons had 
so happy a faculty of winning the confidence and love 
of children. I am sure that those of four, six, and eight 
years in my family, are as vividly and keenly grieved 
in knowing that they 'will never see Mr. Nott again,' 
as they could be if he had been their own brother. 



388 REMARKS IN THE EXAMINER. 

" In every way did he seem to win and secure the 
entire confidence of all who knew him best — confidence 
in his intelligence, his judgment and discretion, and in 
the purity and sincerity of his Christian character. 

" He was always genial, hopeful, buoyant ; often 
almost boyishly joyful — while there was ever an under- 
current of earnestness ; and though we might be sure 
that there was nothing of bigotry or asceticism in his 
nature or his faith, yet it was always apparent that he 
never forgot his own dignity as a man, his principles 
and his hopes as a Christian, or his responsibilities as a 
pastor. It was this remarkable union of winning, joy- 
ous, hopeful sympathy, with keen intelligence and dis- 
crimination, peculiar tact (a rare quality), and vigorous 
earnestness in all his ministerial duties, which specially 
characterized our most valued friend. 

" I never knew any one who seemed to live so tho- 
roughly as he. All the sources of pure enjoyment in the 
physical universe seemed to inspire him. He bounded 
along, exhilarated with the very sense of existence. He 
keenly enjoyed the invigorating influence of free air on 
the hills and fields. He had, too, a discriminating love 
of Art ; white all these large capabilities were chastened 
and regulated by simple, unaffected, cheerful, manly 
piety. 

" It so happened that at many different times, in sum- 
mer and winter, he has been with us, as one of the 
family, in our simple recreations and employments — on 
the ice — clearing the snow — rowing on the water — 
walking to breathe the pure air of the hills — talking over 
some book or topic of mental culture. Always one of 
us, sharing heartily in our enjoyments, we should have 



REMARKS IX THE EXAMINEE. 389 

looked to him for still heartier sympathy in our sor- 
rows, if they had come. In the studies and employ- 
ment of the children, he always showed an appreciating 
interest, and I think they would have confided to him 
their inmost thoughts even more freely than to their 
parents. 

" Of the large flock under his charge, as a church, and 
individually, he always spoke as though his whole heart 
was with them. If, perchance, he would hear a word 
slightly deprecatory of any brother, the pastor never 
failed" to defend, or find excuse, for the absent. In no 
instance did I ever hear him speak otherwise than kindly 
and fraternally of one of his charge ; many he would 
warmly appreciate and praise. In this spirit of Chris- 
tian charity and brotherly love, he seemed to imitate 
more closely (I say it reverentially) the Divine Master 
himself, than any one I have been privileged to know. 
"While his own faith was firm as a rock, and clear as 
crystal, he breathed the very spirit of that charity and 
love which ' endureth all things, hopeth all things.' 

"For myself, while I looked up to him as a pastor, a 
teacher, and a guide, I loved him as an own brother, 
One in whose discrimination of character I have great 
confidence, says that no other person she ever knew, 
combined so many admirable characteristics as our pas- 
tor. In very few characters, indeed, do we find perfect- 
symmetry. Human perfection is unattainable, of 
course. Yet we are commanded to strive after it ; look- 
ing to the Master as our model, as well as the end of 
the law for righteousness. The infirmities of poor 
human nature are too deep-rooted to be eradicated by 
our own wisdom or strivings. But since the beloved 



390 REMARKS IN THE EXAMINER. 

disciple himself leaned on the bosom of his Lord and 
Master, I believe sincerely that no mortal frame has 
ever enshrined a purer and nobler spirit than that of 
my dearly beloved friend, Kingman Nott." 

"Brief as was the public career of our deceased bro- 
ther, he was so well known and justly esteemed 
beyond the limits of his own denomination, that we 
asked a Congregation alist friend, who had often been 
associated with him in works of beneficence, to give us 
his impressions of Mr. Nott. He writes as follows : — 

" The death of the youthful and beloved Nott, is the 
bereavement not of a family, a society, a denomination, 
or a community, but of the church of Christ. As a 
member of that church, endearingly associated with him 
in the last few months of his life, by no narrower tie 
than the all-embracing love of which he was so rare an 
example, I cannot, I must not keep back the sorrowful 
tribute which in every branch of the household of faith 
belongs to his memory. In a day when ' the unity of 
the Spirit in the bond of peace,' has suddenly received 
a development so unprecedented and prevailing — in a 
day when the spirit of redeeming love is going forth in 
the Redeemer's followers with such an expansive energy, 
I knew 7 not the man who seemed, on the whole, quite 
even with him in the advance. He threw his person 
forward, with his views and convictions, into the van ; 
the whole thinking and acting man was there, indivisi- 
ble — with a courage that electrified his fellow youth, 
while a discretion worthy of age, and a commanding 



BEMAUKS IX THE EXAMINEE. 391 

decision superior to precedent and prescription, secured 
the respect of veterans, in his boldest positions. His 
great gifts, as they appeared from my point of view, 
were such as these. That combination of the generous 
and uncalculating courage of youth, with the calmness 
of a great heart and an imperturbable judgment, which 
is best expressed in one word as Yalor, and constitutes 
the born leader of men. Thus, in his eloquence, he 
was master of an electric energy which could carry 
away with it all minds but the one, calm and self-pos- 
sessed, which alternately reined and let loose the fiery 
element at pleasure. So, too, the unbounded breadth 
and liberality of his Christian sympathies, which 
endeared him to his brethren of every denomination 
with a love in which more partial relations could only 
have been swallowed up and lost, had they existed, was 
a thing of which he was the master, not the slave. It 
was no lax effluence of an easy good-nature, liberal for 
want of earnestness, and open for want of self-conti- 
nence ; but was as well defined and strictly contained 
by the principles he embraced and professed, as it was 
unconfined by any prejudice or jealousy, denominational 
or personal. He could give his heart without surren- 
dering his judgment, independence, and responsibility. 
His principles, instead of confining, served rather to 
contain, concentrate, and preserve from diffuse waste, 
the great wealth of his catholic sympathies. 

"Again, his stamp as a Christian hero was aggressive. 
Rather than the quiet inheritor of a post of routine 
duty, to keep things as they are, he w^as, in his church, 
and among the churches, like the youthful Xapoleon of 
a new order, promptly assuming the offensive, and sur- 



392 REMARKS IN THE EXAMINER. 

prising friend and foe with the decision and rapidity of 
his movements. Far as a man could possibly be from 
the desire of notoriety and prominence, he was forward 
in every good word and work, and in every united move- 
ment of the churches, and was already marked as a des- 
tined standard-bearer of the embattled tribes of the spir- 
itual Israel. His favorite theme, and the subject of his 
public and private discourse respectively, on the last two 
occasions that I saw him in life, was the eternally c ag- 
gressive' love of God, self-originant, self-energized, un- 
attracted, sovereign, as the very spirit of the church 
which is begotten in His image. Upon this he founded 
his theory of church-life, and by this infinite motor, he 
sought everywhere to impel the energies of the church 
universal toward the final triumph of redeeming 
love. 

" One more grand quality of the young leader so pre- 
maturely stricken down in the first promise of his career, 
I cannot omit to mention. His holy magnanimity 
towered out of sight of any supposed interests or digni- 
ties of his order. He never seemed to remember them, 
unless to repudiate every consideration of the kind. 
The true dignity of his office was lowliness — its great- 
ness, to be ' servant of all.' Stripping himself of all 
established pretensions, and renouncing all authority, 
save for the Divine Word of which he was a bearer, he 
strove constantly to make the ministerial office as lowly 
and unassuming as its Author. He was eminently a 
man of prayer, with all his practical energy, and hence 
the spirit of Christ was thus brightly exemplified in his 
chosen position and bearing. True, he was but hu- 
man ; he was but young : — but while the sorrow of the 



JESUS A]SD THE RESURRECTION. 393 

hoar dispenses imperatively with the office of criticism, 
these very facts enhance the praise and love we pay to 
him who has entered into rest."* 

* With reference to other characteristics, a few lines are 
here quoted from one or two other sources. A near relative 
says: — "Kingman never could harbor resentment or unkind 
feeling. There was no dark corner in his heart for retaliation, 
or bitterness, or wounded pride. His was the Bible rule, 
* answering not again.' He was sometimes misunderstood, 
and perhaps he was thought to be deficient in sensitiveness. 
He was not indifferent to unkindness, but with the shield of 
brotherly love and unselfish charity he warded off all that 
was opposed to those influences. Many instances of this spirit 
in him are well remembered, and other incidents which proved 
that he not only exercised this virtue of Christian forbearance 
as a principle and a rule of life, but that with it he always 
sustained a peculiar dignity and self-respect. Always kind in 
manner, he could at times still give a severe and just reproof, 
An instance of discourtesy towards him by some fellow stu- 
dents, while in college, was thus met by mingled kindness and 
justice, and the parties became fast friends." .... 

Mrs. Bigelow, with whose family Mr. Nott found a cheerful 
home during his entire residence in New York, writes much 
of him that is most interesting to his family and friends. A 
paragraph or two only is quoted: — "We always knew his 
elastic step as he entered our dwelling, and all was cheerful 
and happy where he was ; his ever joyous countenance at once 
dispelled any sadness that hung over us. He always had a 
smile and a kind word for every one; all, from oldest to 
youngest, delighted to be in his company. 

" We miss him everywhere, but most at the family altar, 
where his earnest, heartfelt prayers, will not be forgotten. 
His whole soul was in his prayers. 

"Sabbath mornings he alwa^'s seemed peculiarly happy ; his 
countenance shone; he enjoyed so much of heaven, that it 
was imprinted on his face." .... 

But the fond memory of friends would lead us to unreason- 

17* 



394 JESUS AND THE RESURRECTION. 

" We have thus," adds the Examiner, " aimed to 
place before our readers a simple, truthful statement of 
the manner in which death came to the youthful pastor 
of the First Baptist Church, and of what they and the 
Christian world have lost in that sad event. But while 
thousands of Christian hearts, in all lands, will have 
tears to shed over his precious memory, and warmest 
supplications to pour forth to God for the church and 
family who have been so severely smitten, no one must 
forget that he who has been suddenly and mysteriously 
taken away from the circles which he loved and adorned 
on earth, once exclaimed, as if his tar-reaching and all- 
appropriating faith had given him a new and seraphic 
vision ; " Oh, then, what a glorious morn will the resur- 
rection morning be! Methinks I see the glad proces- 
sion coming up ! — a multitude to which the throng I 
behold to-night is but a drop in the vast ocean, whom 
no man can number! I see them coming up in robes 
of white, with crowns of everlasting joy upon their 
heads, and palms of victory in their hands. I hear their 
shouts of gladness as they cry, ' Victory ! worthy is the 
Lamb that hath redeemed us ! ' Fathers and mothers 
grasp children long lost. Husbands and wives, separated 
many centuries, fall again into each other's arms. I 
hear a voice which calls my own name ! I start as did 

able limits in such quotations. Eulogy, as such, is needless and 
unprofitable. Our aim has been to present succinctly such 
personal characteristics as afford a lesson and an example. 



JESUS AXD THE RESURRECTION. 395 

Mary, when Jesus gently uttered that word — ' Mary ! ' 
That voice 1****1 had dreamed of it all 
through my life, ever since my boyhood. I know it — 
and the child is clasped in the arms of its mother, who 
cries out, ' My son !' and the child looks up and whis- 
pers, ' Mother ! ' in the old familiar strain, and rests 
again in the bosom that gave it life. I behold these 
reunions ; no one comes alone or empty-handed, but all 
go up with arms full and laps laden with treasures 
which the grave and the sea had buried, but which 
now are all restored for ever with the coming back of 
Jesus," 



THE END. 



